Tulip Joneswood The Hunger Games
by Sammielee817
Summary: A version without Katniss, but instead with Tulip "Li" Joneswood. So, I'm a hopeless romantic and this is going to be a Tulip/Peeta. Well, read if you want and if you haven't read the books yet, this has all the same scenes, just different main character
1. Chapter 1

**1** I wake up suddenly, shaking like a leaf, and drenched in sweat. I'd had the nightmare again, oh that horrible nightmare… Joining the Games… I've had the dream so many times before, that I can't get it out of my head…

_"Tulip Joneswood!" Effie Trinket calls, my heart stops. That's me. That's me! I see my brother, James, and my sister, Madison Grace. They're crying. I begin to fall, fall into the arms of those around me, neighbors, friends, classmates… they all pity me, and my undeniable death to come. Peacemakers rush over and I'm handed to them like I'm already dead. Then, I fall. Falling, falling, I hit the ground. First, it's a desert area, next a frozen wasteland, then a town full of rubble and debris. A shining sword is held high in the sky, ready to strike. It falls upon me slowly, I'm dead. My family is watching helplessly from home; crying. Never to see me again for I'm gone. Forever. _

I shake the dream off. I have to be brave, it's my brother's first year in the reaping. I can't show weakness, for him.

I swing my legs over the edge of my bed and walk towards my school notebook, tear out a piece of paper, and carefully right out a note. I've got to meet Gale in the forest today, we need more food.

Just as I sign my name, my sister walks through my bedroom door. _Why is she already dressed in her reaping clothes?_ I think, watching her flowing white sundress as she enters my room, angry. It's her last year in the reaping, just as it is my brother's first. It's my third, soon I'll have to carry the burden she's so riotcheously held for the past six years, putting her name in extra so we won't starve. Her name is in there a total of thirty-seven times, thirty-seven little slips that say _Madison Grace Joneswood_ on them.

"Why aren't you dressed yet, Tulip?" She yells at me, being late to the reaping is unacceptable. Unless you're sick, like my mother. She's had cancer for six years now, and she is immobile.

"I guess I woke up late." I shrug, tearing the piece of paper to bits. Such a shame, District 12 people can't often afford much paper. Just then, my brother James comes bouncing into the room, bubbly as ever.

"Hi there, Jamie." I poke his nose and give him a big hug, Jamie- -my nickname for him- -is my pride and joy, he's much like me and is an optimistic person. Or, as optimistic as this town can offer.

"Are you worried you're name'll be picked?" He asks, letting a few nerves slip.

"Not at all." I lie. I need to lie, a little white lie, so that he'll feel fine. If you don't worry about it, it's not as bad. That's why every time is hell for me. "Why, I hardly think our names are in there at all."

"So, you really think we won't get picked?" He asks, always trusting my advice.

"I know we won't." I take a good look at him, he's wearing a slightly too long button down shirt and dark pants. The only thing is, his buttons all off by one. "You little butter fingers, let me fix that."

I begin to right his buttons, fixing them so they are all in the correct holes, when he asks, "How do you know, Li?"

"Because I know all." I say in a mystical tone, he laughs and I poke his button nose again, "Just don't worry, okay?"

"Okay." He smiles, and pokes my nose. I go after him to poke his back, but he's running out of the room away from the "monster." Madison taps her foot impatiently.

"We have to get you dressed, _now_." She takes the purple strapless dress off of her arm and throws it to me, I catch it and begin to slide it over my head. Once that's through, she sticks me in front of the mirror and begins to work on my black, wavy hair. She makes it into a braided crown with my hair straight as a pin on underneath it. I look at myself in this dress, it's so snug because I've had it for over two years now.

"Ready to go?" Madison asks, after pulling the last braid into place.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I say, placing my combat boots on.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"Putting my shoes on, what does it look like?" I laugh a little.

"Combat boots? Are you sure?" She asks nervously.

"I'm putting them on, aren't I?" I say, and then stand up and call for Jamie to tell him it's safe to come in.

"Ready, butter fingers?" I ask, he laughs and nods.

I take his hand, and we walk into our small, under-stocked kitchen, kiss my mother goodbye, and follow the crowd to the town center for the reaping. I try to keep a smile on my face, though I can tell my brother notices the layer of worry the begins to draw all over my face. The same one I cannot erase until we're back home, safe.

We eventually get split up. Jamie with the other twelve-year-old boys' on one side, and Madison with the eighteen-year-old girls. I try to find other familiar faces, I see Madge, a good friend and the mayor's daughter, Gale, who I mouth and apology to for missing the woods early this morning, and then bread boy. I see him look around and spot me staring at him, I turn away.

I call him the bread boy for many reasons. He's always throwing around sacs of flour, he's the baker's son…

And he saved my life six years ago.

A horrible accident that killed fifteen men had taken place, mine and Gale's included. My mother had become sick the week before, and we had yet to have food since then. Two-year-old Jamie, nine-year-old me, and nearly twelve-year-old Madison were stumbling around looking for food, any food, rotten food, something. We found our way across from the baker's, it's illegal to steal in District 12, so we checked the garbage. Empty. I spotted the baker's son from the window, he stared at me and I couldn't do anything but stare back as I slid down the garbage pale and sat on the cold, hard ground. His eyebrows furrowed, and then he looked down abruptly. I saw another woman, the witch that was the baker's wife, come over and smack him across the face for whatever cause him to look down. He came stumbling out onto the porch as she was yelling at him, "- -go you stupid, klutzy boy! Go! Feed it to the pigs!" He watched me carefully, waiting for the door to click so he'd know his mother was gone, then he walked towards the pigs' pen. It began to rain, and he sped back up the porch. That's when I notice it, bread. Warm, but badly burnt, bread. I wanted it so badly, and as if reading my mind, he threw it towards me. One loaf, two loaves, three loaves… he sped back into the baker's and my siblings and I took off down the round, I tried to smile turn around and smile at him as thanks, but we might've been too far for him to see. The next day I was ordered to thank him at school, which I never did out of embarrassment…

I watched as Effie Trinket mangled into a bear-hug, while the mayor finished his lecture on the history of Panem ,by Haymitch, a District 12 Hunger Games victor. She then stumbled towards the podium, holding her pink wig in place with one hand, and began her speech. I saw Gale, then, mimicking her words and nodding his head back and forth to make fun.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Effie called in her ridiculous Capitol accent, the one that was high-pitched and made each sentence end like a question. "Now, as usual, we will start with the girls…"

Effie Trinket sauntered her way towards the girls' clear, circular bowl. There were over a thousand names in it, I'm sure. She danced her fingers around the edge, plunged her hand in, dug around, and then plucks a name like it's a bird's feather. She walks back towards the podium slowly, building anticipation. She smooths out the slip… I feel the crowd hold it's breath, and then we all let go simultaneously. Except me.

Because it _is _me.

"Tulip Joneswood!" Effie calls out chipperly, I nearly faint. The crowd pulls apart and leaves a path for me straight towards the stage stairs. I lift my head high, and proudly step forward, letting them all know I'm not afraid. Even though I'm dying inside.

Jamie rushes away from the crowd on the boys' side, and hugs onto my leg for dear life. "No, please, no!" He cries, Gale rushes over and picks him up. Then he turns to me, whispers ''Don't you dare loose, got it? Don't you dare." and gets back in line with Jamie crying on his shoulder. I continue to make my way to the stage, unbreakable, with my head held high.

"Now there's a tribute!" Effie Trinket gushes, "So proud to represent her District! Wonderful!" She sighs with content, the fixes her wig again. As I make it up on stage, Effie taking my hand in her own green-and pink-seam-gloved one. I stand next to her, unmoving, acting unafraid, and then Haymitch stands from his chair. He makes his way over to the first camera man he sees, leaving the camera man shaking with fear as he yells "You see that? Guts! Nerve! You have none of that!" Is he yelling because of his drunkenness or actually to the _Capitol?_

I get my answer when he falls off stage and a gurney must take him swiftly away. Effie Trinket then seems to feel the need to rush to get past the "embarrassing moment" that Haymitch has caused. She dips her hand in the boys' clear bowl, picks a name quickly, and reads it aloud _Please not Jamie, please not Jamie, please not Jamie..._.

"Peeta Mellark!" she calls out, still smiling and going about as if noting happened. Peeta Mellark… why him? Why the bread boy? He walked down a similar pathway created by the crowd as I had. He took his place on the other side of Effie quietly, without a word.

"Now shake." She orders, regaining her peppy spirit.

I stuck out my hand, and his firm, warm one fell next to it. We shook once and he gave me a reassuring- -or was it threatening? To show his strength and intimate me?- -squeeze. By the weak smile he gave me, I'll go with reassuring.

I figured at least I'd get the chance to finally say thank you, though it will be rather hard with either me about to kill him or vise-versa. Hopefully someone else will kill him before I come across him. He seems nice, and nice people dig hooks into me that makes me like them, friends. Jamie, Madge, and Gale've done it.

"And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor…" Effie bids the crowd farewell, and the Panem anthem begins to play. The chance of someone else killing him is very high, I should have nothing to worry about. Though…

The odds haven't really been in my favor.


	2. Chapter 2

**2** As the anthem nears a close once more, a group of Peacekeepers come to me again to take us in to a, sort of, custody. No restraints, just to march me through to the Justice Building. I continuously wonder about the Peacekeeper, has anyone ever tried to flee the scene before? Not that I know of. I step in the front door, leaving Effie and my entire district behind. I'm left in a room by myself filled with beautifully thick and luxurious carpets that are made of velvet- -I've know because I've been here once before. But only ever once, to receive a metal for my father's death. I waited in the lobby with Jamie running my fingers along the velvet, the same way I currently do, waiting for my sister to come back with "Daddy's last gifts." That's when I met Gale, he was there for his father too. Jamie had gotten away from me for a moment and Gale caught him for me- -being much faster.

Just then, James came running through the door and into my now opened arms. He began to sob again on the shoulder of my dress, staining the sating collar. But, I didn't care. It was Madison's anyhow.

"Please don't go, Li!" He sobbed harder, making an effort to call me the nickname he gave me after I came up with Jamie. "I don't want you to die!"

"I'm not going to die, Jamie." I promise him, "I'm going to win this. And I'm going to win it for you, okay Jamie?"

He pulls apart slightly and nods, tears running down his face.

"Promise you won't get killed?"

"Promise." I crossed my heart and bopped his nose. I hope I can keep this one. though, my promises of late haven't held up to well. To meet Gale in the woods for hunting, that none of us would get chosen. I'd try my hardest, but District 12 only ever had a few wins. It was very uncommon.

Madison walks forward with a small, twinkling gold something in her hands.

"The, umm…" She trails off, choking back the sobs. But her puffy eyes and red nose shows she's clearly already failed in that matter, "The mayor's daughter wants me to give this to you…"

She hands me a small gold circle with a MockingJay in flight that's being held on it by the tips of it's wings and bottom of it's claws.

"She said you should keep it, as a symbol for our District." She rubs her nose, making it redden all the more. "And- -and Gale said to not forget what he told you before, when he took James."

"Why didn't he come up with you?" I wonder.

"He- -" she sniffles, "He couldn't pass for you're brother." That was very true, Gale had dark brown eyes and hair, he was way buffer then my sister, Jamie, and I, and he was so tall. When I first met him I had already thought he was an adult, he was so tall.

A Peacemaker steps in the door and says, in a harsh tone, "Time is up."

I hug my sister and Jamie once more before departure, "Don't let them each other starve!" I call to them as they are shoved out of the door, and my life, possibly forever.

It was a short ride from the Justice Building to the train. Being in a car for the first time was extremely unnerving. Every time we hit a bump, my heart stopped and I feared the car would explode. I'd never been in a wagon, let alone a car, we usually walk in District 12's Seam.

There were cameras swirling around everywhere, every single one of them are on me and Peeta Mellark. I was grateful I didn't cry, glad that I can conceal my emotions at times, but not always. Peeta Mellark wasn't' so lucky, or just didn't care. He had obviously been crying and it was plain to see on his face. Oddly, though, he didn't seem to mind. Even when a camera zoomed in close to his face, he didn't budge. This impressed me, he's already preparing to the games. What's his plan? Act like Johanna Mason, probably. She was such a sniveling baby from District 7, that is, until the Games. She killed so many people so viciously.

No, that couldn't be it. This would be too odd for the baker's son. He was well-fed, broad shouldered, and way strong from throwing twenty pound flour sacks to and fro. He'd need an excessive amount of sobbing, weeping, and pouting to fool anyone. If he _could _fool anyone.

The two of us stand on either side of the doorway to the train, letting the cameras taking us in. I place my foot up against the door, lean my back against the door frame, and cross my arms. Peeta faces met and gives me a week smile, mostly to me but partially to the audience. I smile quickly then turn away toward the cameras. The cameras eat up our images until the doors close and I turn away and massage the side of my mouth, I've never had to smile to smile so broadly for such a long time. I sit in the first chair I find, which has one next to it and two across from it creating a square, and slouch down in it, putting my feet in the chair across from me. Peeta follows my example. I figure I'd better get all the sleep I can, nor going to get any during the games. I blink my eyes, they feel heavy. Like they way a thousand pounds. I hope to wake up from this dream like I have a million times before. My last thought before unconsciousness, _If this is a dream then why is Peeta Mellark such a big part of it? _Darkness.

I wake up an hour later, I can tell by the clock on the wall. We'll be there soon. Either between a day or a couple of hours, that's what happens when you're going 250 miles an hour on a speeding train from the Capital. Can't even feel a thing.

The tribute train is a ton fancier then the Justice Building, by an exceedingly much amount. Peeta and I are each given a separate area that has a bedroom, a dressing room, and a bath area. Best of all, hot and cold water! The only time I've had a warm bath is when we boiled the water before hand. I find a drawer filled with beautiful clothes and Effie Trinket says I can do, wear, and eat anything I'd like. She also tells me that dinner is in a half hour and to be ready by then. She leaves me to my room.

The first thing I do? Take a running start then jump on the bed. I read the tag on the pillow, it has feathers in it. If only Madison and Jamie could see this room, we'd probably do something along the lines of scream, jump on the bed, and splash each other with warm water, then cold, then warm again.

I take a hold of my MockingJay pin from Madge and put it next to me. I then go to the dressing area and start digging through the silk, satin, and cashmere clothing. It's all so soft, I can't decide what to wear. After fifteen minutes of searching, I pick out a gold, long sleeve silk shirt with slits from the shoulder t fingers. If I'm going to stay in the Capital- -the worst place in the world- -for a few days, then I'm going to run a muck. Eating all I want, wearing anything I want, and doing anything I want. Just like Effie said. I had to pause my thoughts for a moment, did I just say I'd take advice from Effie? Weird…

I put on a pair of black, tight- -yet stretchy- -pants on. But, I'm unnerved to see they don't fit. I check the tag, they're my size and they are called… leggings? They only go halfway down my shin! How do they not fit if they say my size? Maybe sizes are different? I find Effie and ask her, she says that's they way they're supposed to look. Crazy Capital people…

After I play around in my room for a little bit, seeing what each button on the shower does- -that is, until I spray myself on accident. I change out of the gold top and black, uh, leggings and change into a dark blue V-neck, I think it's called, and a black skirt that goes to my knees. I've never wore many skirts since I was seven, that's when my father started to teach me to hunt outside of the gates. I shot my first squirrel then, too. Right in the eye. Always in the eye.

Effie came to my door and said, "Come on Tulip! Time for din-din!"

I questioned her use of the "din-din" in my mind, _Why not just say dinner or supper, for pete sake._

I followed her through the corridor, there are so many frail dishes on the table. I see Peeta Mellark, then, waiting at the table with an empty chair next to him on either side. He's in a button down shirt and khaki pants, obviously he wants to take advantage of the clothes too.

"Where's Haymich?" I ask, not quite sure why I care.

"Last time I saw him, he was headed for his room. Going to take a nap, I suppose." Peeta answers without turning.

"Well, we can't wait around for him forever now can we? And it has been a rather… exhausting day, has it not?" say Effie Trinket, I can tell she's happy for Haymich's disappearance. I am glad to see she has enough sense for that, and am then shocked by that same fact. I sit down next to Peeta, he holds his breath for a second, then lets it out. I smell the air, it smells like me- -by that I mean tulips. It smells really good actually, must've been in that shower that sprayed me.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, he just nods. He looks nervous, "You sure."

"Yes." He answers, his voice a little quiet. Dinner comes in then, and Peeta and I have hardly anytime to speak after that for we are so distracted by the food. Carrot soup, salad, lam chops and mashed potatoes, cheese, fruit, chocolate cake...

Effie keeps reminding us throughout the meal for there's going to be more, me and Peeta ignore her. I've never had this much food available and I'm not wasting any of it, I stuff my face like there's no tomorrow, which eventually may become true. The food is so delicious and there's so much available that I can't help myself.

"At least you two have decent manners," says Effie as we finish the main course, "Last year's ate like savages. Every time they'd use their hands to stuff their face it- - it just really upset my digestion.

Last year's kids were a few Seam kids, they'd never had enough to eat before win their life. Food was a rarity, so manners didn't count. My father and mother had taught my sister and I how to eat properly and we taught Jamie, Peeta learned from being a baker, I presume. I feel my temper rise at that comment and throw my fork on the floor, along with my knife and spoon. I can only deal with ignorance so long before I'd explode. I watch the others eat the meal in silence, refusing to eat. I was over filling myself and would've stopped then anyhow, but Effie didn't need to know that.

After the cake is taken away I fight to keep what I've eaten down, and I can see a twinge of green on Peeta's face swell. If I can hold down mice meat, entails, and tree bark, I can do this. We go into a living room compartment to watch the reaping's from other parts of Panem. They cut out certain things, to put a whole day of reapings into one half hour long special. Peeta sits next to me on one of two small couches, still no sign of Haymich. I tuck my feet next to me and lean one arm against the back of the couch to lay my head on.

We watch the competition as they step forward on to , or try to hide from, the stage. A fox-faced looking girl with red hair to match from District five, a petite twelve-year-old girl from District 11, a boy who lunges forward to volunteer from District 2, and a poor cripple-footed boy from District 10. They girl from District 12 sticks out the most in my mind, she has dark skin and eyes, and large, frizzy brown hair. It's horrible to see a twelve-year-old in the Games, it's the saddest thing ever to watch, let alone live. I can't help thinking of James…

Last of all they show District 12, I holding my head high, Gale tearing James away from my leg, whispering in my ear, and Peeta walking forward, quietly taking his place. We shake hands. The commentator mention something but I've fallen asleep. I've been rather fatigued lately at the Seam, which is why I woke up so late. But, unfortunately, one nightmare-filled night and a nap. I wake up two seconds later when I hear Effie rambling on about that thing I miss with the commentators, but she change it to Haymich.

"He must learn proper television behavior, look at you two. So darling, well, nearly there, anyway."

Peeta's laugh brings me all the way out of my day-dreaming sleep. "He was drunk! He's drunk every year!"

I laugh too, Effie makes it seam like Haymich has minor tweaks in his manners that she plans to fix with a few quick tips.

"Yes," she hisses, "But you to should be more concerned, he's your lifeline in this game. I can only do so much for you while you're here, he must work with you when you are there. In the Games. Getting you sponsors. He's your life or death."

Haymich stumbles into the room, asks if he had missed dinner, then retches on the carpet and falls into it. I nearly gag myself at the sight, Peeta looks no better.

"Go on, laugh then!" Effie flees the room, off the look for an Anox she can get to clean up his "little mess."

Peeta and I look at each other disgustedly, then turn back to our mentor. I find myself worried for I am agreeing with Effie once more, he is our lifeline. And the only one we've got. Peeta and I, as if reading each other's minds, take his harms and heave Haymich to his feet.

"I tripped?" he asks, "Uck…"

He wipes his nose, smearing the vile liquid from his stomach across it.

"Let's take him to his room, okay? Clean him up." says Peeta. I node and we walk with, but mostly carry, Haymich to his compartment. His clothes are to covered in muck to lay him on the bed, so we lie him in his bathtub and sick the shower on his head. He doesn't seem to notice or care.

"It's okay," Peeta allows me to escape, "You can go, I'll take care of… this mess." I can't tell if the mess is the one Haymich created, or Haymich himself. I sigh with relief, happy to get away.

"Thank-you!" I give him a quick hug and escape towards the door, but stop. "Do you want me to send anyone? There are plenty of Capital people who'd help…"

"No, no, I don't want them." Peeta says after a minute. I nod and leave the room, heading for my own. I understand what he's getting at, Capital people can really suck at times- -well, most of the time actually. Effie's alright, dimwitted, ditzy, and annoying, but bearable.

I can't help but wonder what would drive Peeta to do that, a small form a revenge could've been headed just then. Make the Capital people deal with Haymich and the mess, or the mess that is Haymich. I think of my bread boy for a good minute before- -_Wait, _my_? That's it! He's just kind-hearted._ Kind-hearted people are more dangerous then vicious killers, they have a way to dig a spot in my heart and stay rooted there. I can't let that happen with Peeta Mellark, not where we're going. If he got in my heart then died, I'd cry, or if I died because of him that'd be breaking my promise.

I've got to stay away from my- -_The! The, the, the!- -_the bread boy, damn he's already started. No friendships in this game, definitely not in this game of all games that've existed.

The Hunger Games are not a place for friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**The next morning I awaken to Effie Trinket drawling on and on about, "Up, up, up! It's a big, big, big day!" and a constant three-tap knocking that drives me insane. I suddenly question this woman they let take partial care of us, along with a goes through that pink-wigged mind of hers? I go back to the dressing area and pick out that same gold silk shirt, which is now dry, and put that on with the leggings, also dry. My MockingJay pin nearly disappears on that shirt. I see my sister's braid has stuck well, she's amazing at dong hair. I walk into the dining car, we must be closer to the Capitol, it' so beautiful outside. Different than the Districts, Effie Trinket rushes by me with a cup of coffee and is obviously angry. I can tell by her quick-pace, and the cusses she is muttering about. I see Haymich, puffy and red-faced from the night before, chuckling at an embarrassed-looking Peeta.

"Come, come! Sit, sit!" An obviously not- -yet- -drunk Haymich calls, waving me over. I sit next to Peeta, forgetting my idea to stay away from the kind-hearted baker's son, but it is too late to change. They place an enormous variety of food in front of me and I get distracted and dig in, in-between bites I whisper to Peeta, "are you okay?" He nods and Haymich laughs some more at the memory of whatever it is.

"What's that?" I ask Peeta, who is holding a cup of something brown that looks like something other then coffee.

"They call it 'hot chocolate.'" Peeta says, "Try some, it's great."

I reach forward and grab a cup filled with the rich, creamy drink.

"Wow." I mutter. Peeta dips his bread into the drink and Haymich chuckles endlessly, "What are you doing?" I am in no way holding up to my self-promise. Then i gulp, hopefully that's the only one I can't fulfill.

Peeta nearly blushes, "Dipping it."

I raise at an eyebrow, but then reach across him, take a roll, and do it myself. Peeta smiles slightly at my defiance to not try it. I stick the hot-chocolate covered piece in my mouth and tear it from the whole. "It's actually good."

Haymich chuckles a few more times, then calms down. He even tries it once but doesn't agree that it tastes good, he continues to drink his red drink that he thins with a clear one, By the smell alone I can tell it has some sort of alcohol in it. He'll be falling off more stages in no time.

"So, do you have any advice for us?" I say.

"Don't be stupid, and…" he thinks for a second, "stay alive."

I share an exchange of glance with Peeta, then find I'll have to eventually give up on this 'No baker's son thing,' for it isn't going to work. I'm surprised by the cold, hard look in Peeta's eyes.

"That's very funny." Peeta says, but then slaps the drink from Haymich's almost-grip. Crashing it to the ground. "Only, not to me and not to Tulip."

Before I know it, Peeta is on the ground and Haymich is returning from a punch. He once again reaches for his bottle of alcohol, but I stop him. By nearly slicing his finger with my fork- -which is now wedged deeply in the table.

"What's this now?" Haymich asks, as Peeta gets off the floor. He has an enormous red mark on his jaw, it reminds me of the day of the bread. This kills me, "Got a couple of fighters this year?"

I snatch a few ice cubes out of my orange juice- -at least, I think it's orange juice… I've only ever had a day old orange before- -and place my napkin around it. As I'm about to put it on Peeta's soon-to-be bruise, Haymich's hand stops me.

"Don't." Haymich orders.

"Why not?" I argue, any second Peeta's going to begin to develop a bruise.

"They'll think he got into a fight with another tribute and-"

"-and that's against the rules." Peeta interrupts.

"Exactly, they'll think you fought, and got away with it. Even better.'' Haymich says, then addresses me, "You can hit anything with that knife? Or are you a fork person?"

I through my knife above his head, it lands closer than I anticipated, but doesn't hurt him. It makes me look better than I really am. I'm more of a bow and arrow person, or my wooden spear if that's not available. This fact impresses Haymich, then he says. "Go over there." and points towards the middle of the room.

He pokes us, circles us, checks our muscles, and stares at my and Peeta's faces. "Good enough. Seem fit. When the stylists get to you, you'll look a lot better too."

I don't question this, and neither does Peeta. We're both attractive, but not Capitol-grade attractive. That's what the stylists are for, better dressed tributes get better, richer, and a general amount more sponsors.

"Alright, here's the deal. You don't interfere with my drinking, I'll stay sober enough to help you. And, you do exactly what I say. No matter what it is." I could tell by this fact that he already had a plan in mind.

''Okay." Peeta and I agree at the same time.

"So, what do we do in the Cornucopia, and what straggly for the arena, what can we do when- -"

"Hold it, sweetie, one thing at a time." Hey interrupts, "We'll be there any minute and I need to hand you over to you're stylists." As if on cue, the train begins to slow. Suddenly light enters the compartment and Peeta rushes to the window with me a second behind. We can't help it, the Capitol may seem evil but it's a beautiful place. The cameras do not do as much justice as this place deserves. It's beautiful. Remarkable. From the rainbow the glimmer off the shiny buildings to the buildings themselves. Everyone is dressed up like a bunch of candy pieces from the expensive sweets shop just outside the Seam.

Peeta begins to wave at the people at the station as we pass, they excitedly wave back like we're a star in one of those moving-picture-things the Captiol people have.

"What are you doing?" I ask in a near-hiss.

"Who knows, maybe one of them is rich." He says. "Come wave with me."

I take up the offer, standing and waving out of the same window as Peeta does. Maybe he's always been strategizing, he'll defiantly be a crowd-favorite. Not from the Seam, has good looks, pleasant, enjoys the limelight. I'm similar, but with many differences. My temper, my looks- -though appealing- -aren't as blonde and blue-eyed… after a moment of looking at Peeta's eyes I stop waving.

"Why do you want to wave to them?" I ask, he turns to me.

"Like I said, they could be rich." He says, but I know he's lying. How, I'm not sure. They way his face lowers and looks less happy, the way he looks back at me, the indent between his eyebrows that is caused by his slightly furrowed eyebrows. I raise an eyebrow at him, then turn to the crowd and continue waving.

Who knows, maybe one of these people _are _rich


	4. Chapter 4

**4 **_ Shtre-e-et. _Another piece of myself is torn away from the whole. "I'm really sorry." Says the girl waxing me, "You're just… so hairy." I take no offense, well maybe some. That's just how Capitol people are, perfectly- -and oddly- -dressed. The pull one last strip from my leg, Flavius the takes out a purple lip stick and smears it across his lips. "Nice, now… grease her down!"

The other two members of my prep team, Venia and Octavia, pour some sort of burning- -then cooling- -liquid down my back. After the initial pain, it soothes the skin they've scraped three layers off of. The three step back and pluck the final hairs from my legs, eyebrows, and underarms like birds pecking at my feet as I stay there naked. Under other circumstances, I would've been self-conscience, but they were too annoying and birdlike to be taken seriously.

"Excellent!" Flavius exclaims, "You look almost human!"

I smile to show my 'gratefulness' and decide to flatter these pecking birds, "Thank you. I feel so great now, we often don't get a chance to get dressed up in District 12."

They all "aww" at the compliment and I know I've won them over. "Oh, of course not sweetie. Uh! You poor thing, you!" Venia squeals in her Captiol accent. I pretend to smile shyly, and the "aww" some more. I'm actually a good actress, never would've guessed this would be the place I find that out.

"Cinna will be in any minute now," Octavia says after returning from a walkie-talkie conversation.

They all flee the room, I consider putting my robe on, but decide against it. I sit there waiting, naked, and getting cold. I hear the door give a metallic clink of opening and lunge for my robe, getting it on by the time Cinna walks to me.

"Hello, Tulip. I am Cinna, your stylist, it's very nice to meet you." As he speaks I notice he's missing a district Capitol accent. He looks me over, the robe, the hair, everything.

"Hello." I reply slowly, cautiously. I beg the universe that he not make us wear nothing but coal dust and otherwise being naked, that'd be horrid. They always try to make the costumes relate to the district and, considering mine is coal mining, I don't think I could bare any coal minor outfits, or the naked-with-coal-dust-thing… I wouldn't be able todo the interview the next day, let alone look Haymitch, Effie, or Peeta in the eyes for months- -which isn't a good thing if all you think of is your embarrassment while trying to kill someone.

"What are you going to dress me in?" I ask quietly. "Please say no coal miner themed things."

He chuckles, I notice now that the only outstanding thing about him is the gold eyeliner on his eyelids. Besides that, all he's wearing is jeans, a black tee, and has short-cropped hair. "No, I have something different in mind."

"What, may I ask, is that?" I gain my confident after hearing that I won't be addressing the country in some ridiculous costume.

"You'll find out soon enough. Who did you're hair?" I realize then the my hair is still the way it'd been during the reaping.

"My sister."

"It's beautiful, classical. It works with you, you're profile… I can work with it." He smiles, "She has very clever fingers."

I am relived that my stylist isn't some flamboyant, overdressed, Capitol tool like all the others are. He's very normal, actually. "So you're new?"

He nods.

"And you got stuck with District 12?"

He shakes his head, "I asked for it." No further information. He brings me to a red couch and presses a button, before I know it lunch is in front of us. Chichek na derange chunks cooked in creamy sauce, laid in a bed of white grain, tiny peas, and rolls like flowers. Then, for desert, there's honey-colored pudding.

"How despicable we must seem to you." He mutters, "no matter. So, Tulip, has for your opening ceremony costumes my partner, Portia, and I have a current thought to put you and the other tribute, Peeta, in complementary costumes."

"Yes…?" I asked, praying for something not as over used.

"It's customary to reflect the District's flavor, but the coal miner thing is overdone." Had he been reading my mind? "So, you see, Portia and I want something the crowd will remember you by. So, rather than focus on coal mining, we're going to be focused on coal.

_That's it. _I think, _I'm going to be naked and covered in black dust…_

"And what do we do with coal? Burn it." I begin to smile, "You don't happen to be afraid of fire, do you?"

A few hours later, i'm dressed in either the best, or deadliest, costume to be out there. It's black, has a large collar, and red seams. It also comes with shiny lace-up leather boots that remind me of my favorite pair of combat boots, the ones I was forced to leave in another room. But the _piece de resistance_ is the yellow, red, and orange streamed cape that Cinna plans to light on fire just before our chariot leaves for the streets.

Cinna sees me gulp as he explains all of this, "Don't worry thought, it's not real flames, of course. It's a little synthetic fire Portia and I came up with. Perfectlly safe," he says. He shows me a demonstration, and by the look of the flames I'm not too convinced.

My face has virtually no makeup, just some blush and lip gloss. "I want you to be remembered, Tulip… the fire girl!" He sighs dreamily. I'm beginning to believe underneath that normal layer is a crazy Capitol person, just like the others.

Despite the fact that I believe I'm trying to stay away from Peeta, I'm incredibly happy to see him. This angers me. When he shows up he's dressed in the male version of my outfit. I hope he knows for sure that this is safe, being a baker's son I figure- -and hope- -he knows a little something about fire. His stylist, Portia, and her team accompany him, and everyone is drastically and absolutely giddy with excitement over how beautiful we look. Except Cinna, he seems wearied by the congratulations as he accepts them.

We go to the bottom level to fit Remake Center, which is basically a gigantic stable. The opening ceremony will be starting soon, and different tributes are being loaded onto chariots that have no reins connecting to the horses- -they're just that well trained!

They carefully arrange our positions, how our capes are placed, and leave off to consult each other. I lean closer to Peeta from my side of the chariot.

"Well?" I ask, "What's your opinion of the fire-thing?"

''I'll rip off yours if you rip off mine." He says through gritted teeth.

I smile a bit, but am then scolded to stay in position, "Deal."

I looked around and noticed that, once again, Haymitch has neglected to be our mentor and show up. Where is he?

"Where's Haymitch at?" I ask, "Shouldn't he be mentoring us? Protecting us from, you know, burning to death?"

"I don't know, but we did promise him we wouldn't complain and do what he says." Peeta answers.

"I'm regretting that decision." I say, Peeta chortles.

"Though, maybe he is helping after all." I say.

"How?" Peeta asks.

"Alcohol and fire are not a good match." I say, and then we both burst out laughing. I guess we're so terribly afraid of begin scorched to death that we're not acting sensibly, or maybe we are. I'm too nervous to think it over very hard.

I hear the opening music begin, blasting the Capitol, massive does slide open and reveal the crowds lining the streets. I watch as District 1 goes out, then District 2, District 3, District 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11 is just rolling into the street when Cinna comes to us with a few matches.

"Ready?" He asks.

"As we'll ever be." I say.

"Here we go, then." He slashes the match across the wooden chariot and places it on my cape, then Peetas. I gasp- -waiting for the heat- -but find nothing. Then, Cinna places a headdresses on us and lights them too.

He sighs in relief and gently adjusts my headdress. "It works! Okay, remember, heads high. Smiles and don't forget to wave, if you can. They're going to love you two!"

Cinna jumps off the chariot, landing on his feet. We're about to take off when I look at Peeta for the first time in the fake flames, and realize something unnerving… He's dazzling- -except for the unfortunate bruise caused by Haymitch. And by his look that mimics mine, I am too.

We enter the city and the crowd's alarm that we've set ablaze changes to adoration as they shout, "District Twelve!" All heads face us, and I feel a tickling at my hand. It's Peeta.

"What are you doing!" I whisper-snap at him.

He looks shocked, "Here, take my hand. They'll love it."

I stare at the hand he has laid out for my taking. They would love it, what would Haymitch say? Good idea? Bad one? I can't tell, Cinna would like it. That's enough for me, Cinna's one of the only normal people here.

I take his hand, it's time to be remembered.

We divert his attention to the crowd, they're all staring at me- -hypnotized by our fire, I see myself and Peeta on the screen and see just how mezmorizing we really are.

I remember Cinna's advice and I smile at them, wave at them, and even go one step further and blow kisses to them. Everyone jumps on top of the other to catch my air kisses, they're dying to get to them. The music pounds in my ears and reaches my blood, and I can't surpress my excitement any longer. Cinna gave me such an advantage, he was right. No one will forget me. Tulip; the girl on fire.

I feel hope bubble to the surface, I've got to have some sponsors! One at least! Peeta must too, the bruise and the dazzling is working well for him. I catch a tulip that someone has throw to the chariot, chuckle at the irony, sniff it, then blow a kiss with the hand not holding Peeta's in the general direction of the thrower. A hundred hands reach up to grab my kiss, as if it could actually be thrown and caught.

"Tulip, Tulip! Tulip!" Everyone calls my name, everyone wants a kiss from me.

It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must've squeezed Peeta's hand to the point of no circulation. I try to let go, let his hand have the blood it needs, but Peeta tightens his grip.

"No, don't let go." he says, I watch the firelight dance in his blue eyes, "Please? Otherwise I might fall out of this thing."

I smile, "Okay." I didn't want to let go either, he's not the only one who might fall out. But, I do feel a tad guilty about this, how can we present ourselves as a team when we might have to kill each other later on? I shudder at the thought and Peeta looks at me as if to ask, _how in the world can you be cold?_ misinterpreting my shudder. I shake my head, letting him know that's not the reason.

Our horses stop right before President Snow's mansion, it's spectacular. And unnecessary, we know his 'importance' why state it a million different ways? Clothes, house, accent, power, attention… _we get it, already! _I scream in my head.

The president, a small, thin man with pure white hair gives the official welcome from the balcony. Though, the dark it becomes, the more airtime Peeta and I get. One shot is even direct towards just our hand-holding. Why is that so spectacular? I'm sure all the Districts were doing it if it one the crowd this easily.

I was wrong. I looked at the other teams, they were as spread apart as possible.

When the speech was over we paraded one last time around the circle and into the Training Center. The doors were just barley closed when the prep teams ate us alive with congratulatory cable and praise. As I glance around, unnoticing of how I still grip Peeta's hand but noticing of how all the other tributes are glaring at us. My suspicions are confirmed once and for all. Cinna and Portia helped us literally outshine the competition.

Cinna and Portia, as if reading my thoughts, come to extinguish the fire. I finally realize my grip on Peeta's hand and let go, my stiff fingers barely able to open. We both cradle our hurt hands and massage them, relieving the pain.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky out there." Peeta says.

"I barely noticed, but I felt the same way." I say, "I'm sure no one noticed it."

"I'm sure no one noticed anything but you. You were amazing out there. You know, you should where flames more often." And that he gives me this smile. It's different from the smile on the train, or the smirk when someone tells a joke, it's genuinely sweet with such a perfect sprinkle of shyness that makes my heart skip a beat when an unexpected warmth runs through me.

_No!_ I yell at myself, _no friendships! Not even acquaintances! It's not good, he's probably trying to find a way to kill me! Sweetness equals deadliness for you, remember!_

I look at Peeta's face, take in the smile, the blue eyes with a glimmer of something I don't know what to peg as, and then the big, black and blue bruise on his jawline. I place my fingers on either side of his face, on the jawline, stand on my tip toes while pulling him towards me and kiss his nose. Putting just enough pressure on his bruise to make him wince. I pull away from him, his expression dazed, and repeat his smile. I jump off the chariot and sprint away to my room for the night.

_ See that? I can play this game too, Peeta. You're not the only one who can strategize, _I think.

But, later that night, when I'm about to go to sleep, I realize something. That wasn't well thought through, I mean...

Where exactly would this plan lead me to, anyhow


	5. Chapter 5

**5** The Training Center is designed just for the tributes and their teams. Until the Games begin, this will be our 'home.' I've only ever ridden an elevator twice, in the Justice Building for my father's award and a day ago, to say goodbye. So, going up in the elevator for my district's floor is quite fun compared to the old, creaky, milk-smelling thing back home. It's easy to remember my floor number, same as my district number. Going through this elevator is phenomenal, from the crystal walls to watching the people shrink as you shoot towards the sky. I very nearly ask Effie if I can go again, but fear of being perceived as childish.

I ask anyway. I wonder aloud to Peeta if he'd mind, he says no and we shot down then back up again.

Apparently, after my second ride up, I learn that Effie's duties include much more then just meeting Peeta and I at the station. She is our co-supervisor, I suppose you could say. She and Haymitch shall look after us, placed in great hands aren't we?

Well, if anything I know we won't be late to places, thanks to Effie. But, if it were Haymitch, no one would ever know we were picked for the games at all. Nor that District 12 even had _anyone _picked, period.

Effie, on the other hand, is overjoyed to have us. We are her first team that ever stood out sparkling- -literally- -at the opening ceremonies. She refuses to stop talking about it. Though, some parts are interesting to hear. Like how she knows anyone who's anyone in the Capitol, that should help us a bit with sponsors.

"I've been very mysterious." She says with her eyes half squinted, "I've been telling all those I know about your accomplishments, about how you've shown great strength, determination, and your struggle to over come the barbarism that is your district."

What? Barbarism? Who's the one setting children up to kill each other here? I share a sly glance with Peeta, and look away quickly. Damn roots! I got to try harder at this. Haymitch said he had some sort of plan for this, or at least, he looked like he did.

"Everyone has reservations, you being from the coal district and all. But I said, and this was very clever of me, 'Well, if you put pressure on coal it turns to pearls.'" She beams at her false success. We have to pretend to respond like it was an ingenious thing we couldn't have put to better words, only, we could.

Pearls come from shellfish, not coal. She must've mean diamonds, but that's false as well. Though, I hear in District 1 they use a machine of sorts to turn graphite into coal. But, we don't mine graphite. That was District 13's job before it was destroyed in the uprising many years ago.

"Unfortunately, though I'd be quite good at it, only Haymitch can seal the deal with sponsors…" She clenches her fist, puncturing her hand with her sharp fingernail tips, ''But, I'll bet him to that table at gunpoint if I have to!"

I admire this about Effie, she's determined, though lacking in other qualities. Like the basic knowledge of coal.

As we enter our floor I find my quarters, it's bigger than my house plus one, and better stocked. It's plush and comfortable like the tribute train, but also has much more gadgets then the entire train combined. I make it my mission to push them all at one point or another. Though, looking at this shower, it has over a hundred more pushable buttons then the tribute train's. Soaps, water temperature, sponges, oils, shampoos, scents, and million other things I don't even know what they are. Even getting dried off and doing your hair is an experience, you just step out and heaters blast you dry. Then, the hair machine sends a warm current through your hair, untangling and parting and drying my short shoulder-length hair into a soft, wavy drape that descends from my scalp.

I find that the closet is programable and order a white dress with light blue designs, it comes within seconds. I then play with me window, which allows me to view different parts of the city at the touch of my hand.

You only need to whisper into the ginormous mouthpiece your order and all that, plus more, is wheeled into your room. This whole place is amazing! I continue to look through the city from my window when Effie triple knocks at my door, calling for dinner. Which is good, because I'm parched and hunger as ever- -well, maybe not as I've ever been.

Peeta, Portia, and Cinna are over looking the Capitol from the balcony when I walk in, I run after and join them- -happy to have my stylists because I hear Haymitch will web joining us, on time, for once and Effie and Haymitch have opposing personalities. This will force them to be good. And mostly because dinner is not just about food, but strategizing. Cinna and Portia have already proven their valuableness.

I take a long look at the Captiol, "Wow. It's beautiful from here." I say, and Peeta agrees. I look at him, and he was already looking at me.

"Ready for dinner?" I ask, and Cinna, Portia, Peeta, and I walk towards the table and take our places.

I'm giving up on not talking to Peeta, besides I might be able to find something out about him that'll help me in the Games. After thinking this I feel dirty, how can I think that? That was low… I change my mind to possibly consider an alliance during the Games if I need to. I feel better that way, less like a horrible Careers person. Careers are the people from District 1, District 2, and District 4. They literally have academies there where they learn fighting, killing, and survival skills.

But, mostly killing. Thus, the career aspect and thus the Careers.

Haymitch shows up just as dinner is being served, he's cleaned and groomed and actually looks over for once. Nice to know he's keeping his side of the bargain. I wonder if he has his own stylist? I also realize this is the first time I've ever seen him eat anything. Maybe he actually can pull himself together, long enough to help us, anyway.

I'm glad to see that I was right about Cinna and Portia keeping Haymitch and Effie civil towards each other. Or more so that they're addressing each other some what decently. It's an improvement. And they have nothing but praise and admiration for Cinna and Portia, that master stylists. While they talk about the fire, it's contents, ect. I decide to focus on the meal, which is as extravagant as aways. Just like everything in the Captiol. My favorite thing to eat so far seems to be the bread in the hot chocolate that Peeta had shown me. Effie disagrees.

A silent young man offers me and every one else a 'stemmed glass of wine.' After seeing Haymtich fall into his own vomit, I'm rather turned off to the idea of any such alcohol. I still gag slightly at the memory, and decide to clear it from my mind.

After I've stuffed myself to the point of near-explosion, I decide to tune the conversation back in, which has reverted to our interview costumes. Then, a gorgeous cake is set on the table in front of me and my stomach suddenly has more room. She then lights it, it blazes and flickers on the edges, then burns out. I question this.

"What makes it light, is it alcohol? That's the last thing I wa- -" I look at the girl, "- -Hey! I know you! Why do you look so familiar?"

I feel sudden guilt, if she's the girl I think she is then she's probably here, serving us, because of me. I was in the woods with gale a year ago, and then we saw two people running. A girl, this girl, with red had and a boy with brown. They hovercraft came two minutes later and scooped the girl away, then some sort of spear plunged throughout the boy. I heard her scream, the boy was obviously dead. We could've helped them, hidden them. It'd have been as easy as cake- -well, cake for Peeta anyway. But, we didn't. Gale and I watched, speechless.

I turn around and there are four eyes watching me like a hawk's and a fifth watching me with nervousness.

"Don't be ridiculous, Tulip." Effie criticizes, "How could you possibly know an Avox? Just the thought!"

"She's an Avox…?"

"An Avox is someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue out and she cannot speak." says Haymitch, "Probably due to treason, not likely you know her."

I look at the girl once more as Effie continues on, "And even if you did, you're not to speak with her. Only to gives orders, but you don't really know her, anyhow. Rather unimportant."

Peeta comes to my rescue, he exclaims, "Delly Cartwright! She's a dead ringer for Dell, no?"

Delly Cartwright is a girl from our school, she's in most of my classes so I know her look well. She's got pale blonde hair, pasty skin, and is rather lumpy. She looks as much like the Avox girl as does a rose to a potato. Though, Delly is one of the nicest people on the planet- -always smiling, greeting everyone. Even those she doesn't know and probably doesn't like.

"Right, right!" I lie, "Delly is a dead ringer for her. It must've been the hair that tipped me off."

"Something about the eyes, too," he agrees.

As everyone at the table releases the tense atmosphere, Cinna says, "Well, that explains it. And yes, the cake had spirits but it was burned clean off. I ordered it especially to celebrate your commemorative debut."

I nod a thanks to him, and then we finish our pieces and move into the living room area to watch the play of the ceremonies being broadcast in a replay. I sit next to Peeta again, in the virtual equivalent to the sitting area on the train. I sit the same way as well, tucking my feet next to me and lying my head on my arm. I watch as the other tributes come on, they make a nice enough impression, but they can't hold a candle to us- -well, maybe if they wanted to light it, the could.

Even our own party lets out an "Ahh!" and a few squeals at our success while our chariot pulls us out of the Remake Center. President Snow begins his speech and I begin to drift off. The scene cuts to the shot of me and Peeta's hands entwined in front of flames on our capes.

"Whose idea was the hand holding?" Haymitch asks. I wake from my daze.

"Peeta's." I yawn.

Haymitch places his hand on Peeta's shoulder in a congratulatory way, "Ver nice. Just the perfect touch of rebellion, very nice."

Rebellion? I look at the screen once more as I remember the other teams vast distance kept between each other. Yep it's rebellion. Rebellion is the perfect word. I understand, know, what Haymitch means. Presenting ourselves as friends and not adversaries is just as distinguishing as the blazing headdresses and capes.

I yawn again, and it carries over to Peeta. "You to go to bed, tomorrow is the first training session and we'll meet for breakfast so I can tell you how I want you two to play it." Haymitch says. Finally! I'll know what's been going through that half-drunk brain of his since that train ride, I knew I saw a plan twinkling in his eyes as it formed in his brain. "Now, get to sleep. You'll need it."

Peeta and I stand at the same time and walk towards our rooms together down the corridor, when we reach mine first he leans against the door frame casually. Not blocking my entrance, but using body language to insist that I pay him attention.

"So, Delly Cartwright. Just imagine, we find her lookalike here, of all places."

He asking for an explanation. Do I owe him one? Drat, I do… he did save my butt back there. And my life years ago. Again, drat! I continue to use up my time with him on other things besides getting that thank you out. But, if I tell him what I witnessed will he tell the others? Either way, the idea of a maimed tongue frightens me. To tell or not to tell, that is my unrelenting question. Peeta picks up on my hesitation, for which I am relived and grateful.

"Have you seen the roof yet?" he asks, I shake my head. "Cinna showed me, it has an amazing view of the city. Better then the balcony, even. The wind is a bit _loud_ though."

Translation: No one will hear you tell me the truth so lets go.

"We can just go up?" I ask.

"Sure, come on," Peeta says. I follow him up a flight of stairs that leads to the roof, it has a dome-shaped room wit a door to outside. As we step out of the door, the cool, windy evening air and the astounding view makes my breath catch. The entire Capitol, in my view as it sparkles and twinkles like a field of fire flies or twinkling diamonds. Electricity in District 12 isn't always reliable, it comes and goes like wind. We usually spend evenings in candlelight. But here it seems impossible for a shortage.

Peeta walks me to the railing at the edge of the roof, I take a look straight down the sid eof the building to the street, which is buzzing with people. You can hear cares, shouts, and metallic clinking noises.

"I asked Cinna why they let us up here, why they weren't afraid that some tribute would jump off." Peeta says.

"And?"

"He said you can't." He holds out his hand into a seemingly vacant position. Then, there's a small lighting zap and he pulls his hand away. "Some sort of electric field throws you back."

"Always worried about safety, I see. You're hand okay?" I say, mocking the Capitol. He nods to me, part at the mocking, part at his hand's well being. Even though Cinna has shown Peeta the roof, I can't help but think that we're not supposed to be up here, so lane and so alone. I've never seen a tribute on the roof before, training or otherwise. Must be no cameras then. "They couldn't be watching us, could they?"

"Maybe." He admits, "why so concerned about it?"

"No reason," I shrug. He pulls on my arm.

"Come on, the garden is amazing." I follow him to the other side of the dome, it's full of flower ads and potted trees and branches with hundreds of wind chimes. I believe this to be the metallic tinkling I'd heard prior to coming over here. Here in the garden, on such a windy night, drowned out by the sounds with no cameras, it's the perfect place to not be heard. Peeta watches me with expecting eyes.

I pretend to look at the trees, running my finger along the wind chimes to make them sound. "We were in the woods, we were looking for some sort of game. Anything to trade or eat…" I whisper.

"You and your father?" He asks quietly, confused for then I'd have to be at least eight. Which would most likely have dampened my memory, who remembers a stranger from when they were eight?

"No, my friend Gale." I whisper back. "I saw her running along with a boy, we just stared and they stared back. That's when the hovercraft came, it sucked up the girl and then they must've speared the boy because a long silver thing shot out and he just laid there, hooked to it, dead we figured. We should've taken them in, we would've had time. I know what an animal at bay looks like, and that was their look. Both of them, in trouble."

Peeta nods, and I continue. "Once the boy was up, they darted of. Disappearing to know where just as they had came. They birds began to sing again… I feel horrid now, it's horrible to wonder what if. I can't help doing that. What if I had saved her? And the boy? Would he've lived?"

"Did they see you?" He wonders aloud.

"I don't think so, after the hovercraft came Gale hid one way and I hid in a tree." I reply, a shiver sailing down my spine. What if? What if, what if, what if?

"Are you cold?" Peeta asks with a chuckle, taking off his jacket and wraps it around me. I take the offering, whether or not I like it I'm friends with the bread boy. Peeta Mellark is my friend, friends can give friends jackets right? Oh, what am I saying, of course they can…

"Were they from here?" He asks, securing the first button on the jacket.

"I thinks so. They had that Capitol look to them and… and when the girl screamed… she screamed the boy's name. It sounded like a Capitol accent, if I remember correctly." I say.

"Where do you suppose they were going?" Peeta asks.

"I don't know, District 12 is the end, where else is there but wilderness and District 13 ruins?" I ask, surprised by my honesty. Why was I blurting out everything that came to mind? "But, why would they leave here?"

This time I'm smart and keep my other thoughts and questions to myself. Haymitch called them traitors, committed treason against the Capitol. Against what? The Capitol? Why would they want that when they have everything they need here? There is no possible reason to rebel here, the Districts would make more sense, but here?

"I'd leave here." Peeta blurts out, the same way I had. He looks around nervously, it was a loud enough statement that it could've been heard over the wind chimes, but Peeta being the quick-thinking Peeta he is, fixes it to sound like a scared tribute. "I'd ask to be sent home now, if I'd be allowed. The food is prime, though, isn't it?"

I nod, he's covered again. It amazes me how well he can do that, maybe even too well…

"Its getting chilly, and I can see you're cold We'd better go in." He says, and we walk back in and the subject turns more friendly, conversational. "This friend of yours, Gale, he's the one who took your brother away at the reaping? And… whispered in your ear?"

I nod, "Mmhm, that's him. You know him?"

"Not really, I hear girls talk about him a lot. I thought he was your cosign or something." he says.

"Nope. Just friends." I say.

"Do you… favor each other?" he asks. I'm taken aback by the personal question. No, I've never thought of Gale that way. He could be my cousin, the way I think of him. I guess people could've thought we were a couple, but I don't want that. Gale's important to me, but just a great friend. I don't feel much besides a great, and one of my best, friends. He's like Jamie, but older and much, much taller.

"No, why do you ask?" I answer.

Peeta shrugs, "No reason. Just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat." I say, he laughs.

"So did he come to say goodbye to you?" He asks.

"No, but tried. Couldn't pass for my brother." I laugh a little, Peeta smiles a little.

"How about you?" I ask, changing the subject. "Who came to see you?"

"My father." He says, "My mother too. You know, my father knew your mother when you they were kids. He likes you and your family a lot." This surprises me, that i might've been discussed along with my family around their dinner table.

"I thinks he likes the idea of having some girls, rather than all boys." Peeta mutters. Another surprise to add to the pile.

"Oh, yes, she grew up in town." I say, I don't find it fit to mention that she never mentions the baker besides when he gives us a loaf for her. That suddenly makes more sense to me, the cheaper bread. They must've been childhood friends. This makes me smile. We're at my door, now. I stick out my hand and attempt to give him back his jacket.

"Keep it, I'll see you in the morning." He says.

I smile, "Okay. In the morning, then." I say, and he saunters down the hall towards his own room. I stare after him for a moment, that was kind of him to let me keep the jacket. Why I'd keep a male jacket, I don't know, but it was still kind. I open mu door and the red headed girl is collecting my fire unitard and lace up boots.

"Oh, sorry!" I say, she keeps her head down, avoiding my eyes. "I had meant to give it to Cinna, I'm so sorry, would you mind giving it to him?"

Of course not! She has no choice but to! I feel so horrid, she must remember me for she nods with her head down and rushes out of the room. I wish i could tell her that my apology is meant to run much deeper, to let her no that it's not jus for the clothes but the fact that I allowed the Capitol to mutilate her tongue and kill the boy with out so much as a "stop!" Just as if I was watching the Hunger Games in District 12. She must hate me, must be hoping I die horribly in the Games that I've been forced into. So that she gets a chance to do what I've done to her. Be a bystander, do nothing and watch others suffer.

I jump into bed, still with Peeta's jacket and the rest of my clothing on, and stop shivering while trying to forget the horrible things I've cause her and relinquish my self-pity. I wonder if she'll ever forgive me…

Or enjoy watching me die.


	6. Chapter 6

**6** My dreams that night still frighten me after awakening. Even worse then the Hunger Games dream, that one doesn't bother me anymore because I'm living it. Each moment of last night were filled with the Avox, my brother and sister crying as I die, my father begin exploded to bits in a mine, my mother sick in bed, and finally an arrow shot right at me, bursting into light as I wake up. I see dawn breaking throughout the room, creeping in through my windows. The Capitol's misty, cold air reminds me of last night on the roof. I look down, yep it's true. I really did blurt out to Peeta a fact that could get me arrested right this very second.

I hear a knock, knock, knock at my door and my heart stops until Effie calls out, "Come, come, come! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"

I shake off the previous night, like I have so many times for so many horrifying dreams, and head towards the showers. Yelling "Alright, alright! I'll be out in a minute!" to Effie Trinket as I go, I listen as her heels _click-clack_ away.

My head throbs slightly as I think, _eventually I need to get a real good nights sleep. _I push the shows buttons at random, still groggy, but am quickly awakened when I'm lathered with some sort of yellow soap that takes several tries to finally scrape off from myself. But, at least I smell lemons. I think it's lemons, I'm going by color and slight knowledge of lemony smells.

When I'm dried and my hair has been blown to perfection I make my way towards the dresser but find an outfit already laid out. A pair of black pants, but not the leggings, a long-sleeved burgundy tunic, and leather shoes with a slight heel. I put my hair into a pony tail and leave a bit of my bangs to the side, this is the first time since the reaping that I've dressed a little more casual, no dresses, no V-necks, no flaming capes. Just me.

Haymitch didn't give us an exact time for breakfast, but I guess Effie's appearance at my door I'm already late. I rush out of my room, hoping for food.

I'm not disappointed. While the table itself is empty, there is a much longer table with at least twenty different dishes that I can see is meant as a serve yourself. A young man, an Avox, I suppose, stands at the spread with metal tongs. I walk towards him, "May I serve myself?" He nods, another tongue incident?

I load my plate with some- -blueberry?- -pancakes, some banana slices on top, eggs, several pieces of toast, hot chocolate, and a piece of bread- -to dip, of course. I rip of a piece of bread and dip it in my hot chocolate, like Peeta showed me.

I let my mind wander to my sister and brother. Did my amazing appearance last night give them hope? Or did seeing all my possible killers frighten them further? What do they think of the hand holding thing? Are they being fed well enough?

Haymitch and Peeta come in, fill there plates, and Peeta sits next to me. I get slightly irritated at the fact that we're dressed the same. It's one thing for during the opening ceremony, but all the time? Is this part of Haymitch's supposed 'plan' or is it just Cinna? I'd talk to Cinna about it, but who am I to question his decisions when so far he's been spot on?

"Good morning, Peeta." I say. He looks nice in this outfit, as do I. Okay, maybe I forgive Cinna.

Peeta smiles, "Hey."

I'm beginning to get nervous about the training, there's only three days in which I can practice. How am I supposed to learn survival skills in three days? The last day is when we privately preform of the Gamemakers. I wonder what the theme of this year will be, there's always a person or group of people who are the 'main characters' in this little television show. Will it be me? Peeta? Any of the other tributes? Oh, thinking of meeting the others begins to take tis tole on me. I feel rather queasy now… I turn the roll in my hands over repeatedly, I never bit into it. And I don't have much of an appetite any longer.

"Peeta, do you want my roll?" I ask. He turns and looks at me with his mouth so stuffed his cheeks are beginning to bulge. I laugh and place the roll on his plate, he swallows hard.

"Thank you." he says, very embarrassed; I can tell by the slight red shading on his cheeks. I shrug with a smile. I guess we're friends, like it or not. I got to just deal with it, he's been the topic of my brain's thoughts for a while now on this matter.

After Haymitch eats several bowls of stew, he takes out some sort of flask from his inside jacket pocket and then leans his elbows against his table and addresses us, "Okay. First question of training, taught separately or together? Decide now."

I look at Peeta, each of our eyebrows are raised.

"Why would we train separately?" I ask, turning back to Haymitch.

"Say if you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about." he says.

Peeta and I exchange another look. "I don't have any secret skills," he says. "And I already know yours, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels and rabbits."

I never thought of this, I figured the baker'd keep them as his secret. Not out of greed, but by the fact that town families usually eat butcher meat. Like chickens and beef and horse.

"I don't mind coaching together." I say, Peeta nods.

"All right, so give me some idea of what you two can do." says Haymitch.

"I can do absolutely nothing." says Peeta, "Unless you count baking bread."

"Doesn't count. Tulip? Well, I already know you're handy with a knife." Haymitch says.

"Not exactly." I say, "That was a lucky shot. I'm more of a hunter, I guess. I'm better with spears or a bow and arrow."

"Are you good?" Haymitch asks. I ponder over this, I'm not quite sure. I mean, I usually hit the animals I want. I never tried aiming for anything besides the basic bird, or squirrel, or rabbit's body.

''I'm good enough." Is what I come up with. Peeta scoffs.

"She's excellent." Peeta says. "My father always buys her squirrels. He always jokes about how she hits them in the eye instead of the body. Every singe one, right in the eye. She gives the rabbits to the butcher, and even brought down a few deer!"

This takes me by sheer surprise. First of how he ever noticed and second of how he's talking me up. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"What are _you _doing?" He retorts, "If he's going to help you, he has to know what you're capable of, right? Don't underestimate yourself."

"What a hypocrite!" I yell at him, to his surprise. "What about you, huh? I've seen you in the market place! You can lift a hundred-pound sac of flour like it's a dandelion. Tell him that, 'cause that's not nothing."

"Yes, I'm so sure that the arena will have giant sacs of flour for me to chuck at people's heads. It's not a good skill for this, Tulip, and you know that." He shoots back.

I turn away from him and face Haymitch, "He can wrestle!" I say, suddenly remembering, "He came in second last year just behind his own brother!"

"What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death!" Peeta burst in disgust.

I slam my hands on the table, "There is always hand-to-hand combat, Peeta! Find a stupid knife and you'll at least stand a chance! If I get jumped, I'm dead!"

"But you won't." He protests, "You'll be living in some tree, eating squirrels, and picking off anyone you see with an arrows or with branches you made into spears, hitting them in the eyes. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say goodbye, as if to cheer me up? She said, maybe District 12 will finally have a winner this year. She didn't mean me, Tulip, she meant you!"

"Oh, don't lie. You know she meant you!" I dismiss the comment, putting my hands on my hips.

"No, she didn't! She meant you. She even said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' _She_, Tulip, as in _you._" Peeta protests further. I stare at him, defeated. Would his mother really do that? She wouldn't would she? I look into the baby-blues that are staring back at me. He's not lying, not at all.

And when I answer, I finally gain some heat-of-the-moment courage to bring of the bread incident. "But only because I had help from someone." I say in a quiet, slow voice. Peeta's eyes flicker to the side, at the bread on his plate that I'd given him. I can see the night flashing through his mind, but he shrugs.

"Sometimes we need help. And people will be tripping over each other to sponsor you and help you in the arena." He says.

"You'll still get more," I counter.

He rolls his eyes to Haymitch at me, ''She has no idea of the effect she can have." He then begins to pull his fingernails along the wood grain in the table, scratching it, while refusing to look at me.

What effect? What on earth does he mean? Tripping over each other to help me? When my family was dying of starvation no one helped me, no one but Peeta. Once I got a hold of bartering materials we were better off, things changed. Or was that the effect? People traded for lower when they saw me? Thinking I was week and needy? Is that what he's suggesting, pity? I glower down at him, angered by the millions of unanswered, and unanswerable, questions buzzing through my head caused by Peeta.

After several minutes of this, Haymitch says, "Well, then. Well, well, well…" He trails off, thinking. "Tulip, there is not guarantee that threw will be bows or spears, but they can be made. During you're private session, however, there will be. Any other archery until then is forbidden, okay? Are you good at trapping?"

"I know the basics." I mutter, still annoyed.

"Good, work with that. They'll be necessary in terms of food." says Haymitch as he then turns to Peeta to address him, "As for you, Peeta, Tulip is right. Don't underestimate the power of strength in the arena. Physical power will tilt the scale in your favor. In the Training Center, there will be weights. But don't show how much you can lift in front of the other tributes. The plan stays the same for the both of you, only use things you don't know of. Keep your good skills a secret, got it?"

We nod.

"One more thing, whenever you're in public I want you to stay by each other's side. Every minute." says Haymitch. Me and Peeta nearly object but stop ourselves. We're just still angry about the whole 'You're better' 'No, you're better' debate. But not before Haymitch slams his hands on the table and shouts, "Every minute! No discussios! You agreed to do what I said, and you will do what I say! Go, get out. You meet Effie at ten by the elevator."

I bite my lip and Peeta and I stomp off towards our rooms. Peeta passes the door and I enter my room, slamming it slightly so he'll know I'm waiting for an apology.

An apology for what? For being over-kind and trying to show Haymitch I do have talent? For taking the impeccable rudeness and disbelief from his mother about how she feels he has no chance to win? I start to feel bad. But, how did he know all of that, we've been keeping track on each other? I have too… huh, what a weird situation. I guess that day in the rain all those years ago means a lot to him to. Well, one thing's clear. I was never waiting for the roots of his kindness to sink it, they were already there from day one. They day he saved me it must've happened.

Damn roots.

I begin to bite my perfectly rounded nails on the way to the elevator. It's nearly ten and I'm growing intensely nervous about the other tributes once more, I spot Peeta and Effie at the elevator and finally realize my habit when Effie frowns at me- -which she rarely does. I pull my hand away and Effie's smile returns. How odd that one little thing can determine her mood.

The actual training rooms are below ground level of our building. With the elevators, the take no time at all. It's so much fun, these things. I watch as the doors open and the biggest gymnasium I've ever seen is revealed and filled with weapons, obstacle courses, and- -of course- -other tributes. And I can see that, though it's not tenet, we are the last ones here. The tributes are in a tense circle and they all have a square piece of numbered cloth pinned to their shirts, the number is their District. A someone pins a number _12_ on my upper back I notice that Peeta and I are the only ones dressed with any sort of likeness. We join the circle cautiously, and I feel like I'm going to fall off the chariot again. My fingers pluck by Peeta's hands at the memory, but I begin to bite them again.

A tall, athletic woman named Atala is our head trainer. She explains the training schedule and experts in each skill will be available at their stations. We are free to travel about as we please as to follow our mentor's instructions but are forbidden from having an sort of combative exercise with any other tribe, there are assistants on hand if we want to practice with a partner.

My eyes soar through the different faces of the tributes as Atala reads though the station names and exercises. My heart drowns in the misery that is the others, they're all much bigger than I am even though they've never been fed well. You can see the hollowness of their cheeks and the hole look of their bones, skins, and eyes tells me the same thing. The only exceptions are the Care Tributes, the richer ones who have been fed well and are looking hungrily at all of the weapons as if they are toys they wan to play with- -which, as a child, they probably did. Their projected arrogance and brutality overwhelms them, as their faces all adorn smug smirks of the overconfidence that is their 'undeniable' win.

I jump when Peeta nudges my arm, I hadn't even realized he was next to me still but figure it's per Haymitch's instructions. "Where do you want to start?"

I look around, all the Career Tributes are doing the opposite of what we are- -showing off and honing their skills rather than hide their talents, like us. They're strategy is obviously intimidation. Meanwhile the others all look incompetent and are shakily trying at their first lessons with, well, with nearly any weapon.

"Why don't we just go do the knots thing?" I suggest, pulling my nails away from my lips and gnawing teeth.

"Right you are," says Peeta. We cross to the knot-tying section and by the trainer's overjoyed reaction I get the feeling that this is not a Hunger Games hot spot. When the trainer realizes I have prior knowledge with snares, he teaches Peeta and I a trap that will leave a human competitor dangling from a tree. Next we move to camouflage, we're both genuinely enjoying this station. Peeta especially. I like it, but find I am horrible at it. I watch in awe as Peeta swirls a combination of mud, clay, and berry juices around on his pale skin, weaving disguises from vines and leaves. The trainer who runs the camouflage class is overjoyed and utterly enthusiastic about his work.

"How are you so good at this!" I ask with a light laugh to my tone, still in shock and awe that he can make his arm blend into a tree branch. "Are you part chameleon or something?"

Peeta laughs. "I do the cakes." He admits.

"The cakes?" I ask stupidly, momentarily forgetting that his family owns a bakery.

"The iced ones from the bakery at home." He replies.

"Really? My brother stares at those for hours on holidays, we think they're astounding. Do you really make them?" I ask, with genuine sincerity in my question. I've always adored those cakes, and lied when I didn't mention that I also stare at them for hours.

"Yeah," he says as I look more critically look at the design on Peeta's arm. The alternating patter of light to dark means the lighting is falling through the wood's leave.

"Did you learn that from just that hunk of old tree in your backyard?" I ask, he nods. "Well, Peeta, you're a dirty liar."

"What?" he asks suddenly, confused by my words.

"You're a liar because you said you had no useful talents in the Hunger Games." He laughs lightly, mostly with relief that I wasn't about to bite his head off about something. "It really is amazing. But, if you could find a way to frost someone to death that'd be even better."

"You never know what the arena will hold." He jokes, "It may very well be a ginormous cake."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "Or, you know, it could not be.'' I say, "Let's got to another station.

The next three days pass much the same, with Peeta and I darting from station to station. The only one we every repeat is the camouflage one, which I deal with because it's interesting to see what Peeta turns himself into each time. We also learn some valuable things, starting fires, knife throwing- -which improved my distance and accuracy a ton- - Peeta does grand when we go through the hand-to-hand combat station and I fly through edible plants easily and we steer clear of any archery or weight lifting courses. And despite Haymitch's warning, we both seem to do exceedingly well, so well in fact that no one will even notice that we've left out our best assets.

The Gamekeepers appeared early on the first day, they are twenty or so men and women dressed in deep purple robes and dresses. They follow us around, take notes, and are always eating bits of their endless banquet that's been laid out for them. This means most of us get forgotten.

Lunch is the only meal we eat in the dining room around the bend from the gymnasium. Food is arranged for you to serve yourself and the Careers gather in one table, displaying their supposed 'superiority,' as the rest of us shuffle into singular tables. Peeta and I, on the other hand, are the only ones who eat together, and since Haymtich keeps dogging us about it, we try to main friendly conversations during lunches.

It's hard to find an agreeable topic. Talking of home is too painful, talking about the present is unbearable, but one day Peeta empties out the breadbasket and points out how they have been careful to include types from the districts. I actually find this a tad entertaining.

"This one here is from District 4," he says, pulling up a fished shape lot with seaweed that is tinted green. Then he holds up a moon roll with seeds dotted along it, "And this one is from District 11." All of these, though made of similar things, look much better then the ugly drop biscuits from home. I steal a piece of the District 4 one from Peeta and eat it. He laughs a bit and everyone stares, "And there you have it."

I nod, "Boy do you know a lot."

"Only about bread." He says. Though we are slowly rising from the chill that is my door that I'd slammed, we still need to put a bit of effort into our conversation. "Now, you talk and I'll smile pleasantly." I follow his directions and tell the story of my brother's first day of first grade and how I had to stay with him the whole day. He asked questions and laughed in all the right places. He's much better at this, it only seems to work for me when I'm genuinely interested.

On the second day Peeta and I practice spear throwing when he leans to me and whispers, "I think we have a shadow." I turn to see the twelve-year-old girl from District 11 standing behind a beam that connects the floor to the ceiling, she watches us carefully.

"What should we do?" I ask.

"Nothing, just make conversation. I think her name is Rue." Rue, that's that small yellow flower in the Meadow. My mother loves that flower, often pick them with my brother for her. It always mass her smile. It's hard not to notice Rue, especially when she accidentally joins the same station we're at. She is a great clime and has good aim with a slingshot. I worry though, what's a slingshot got against a 220-pound, sword wielding, Career boy?

The third day of training was, what I thought to be, the worst. Around lunchtime they'd start to call people in for their private sessions with the Gamemakers. And before you know it it's nearing the end of District 11's turn. They call in Peeta and he stands slowly..

"Don't forget the weights." I remind him before I can stop myself, the stress to not mess up has relieved all other forms of pressure except itself.

"I won't and don't you forget, shoot straight," he says and then walks into the room, leaving me to myself. Fifteen minutes later it's my turn to go in. The first thing I spot are the spears, and I go sprinting after them. I notice all of the Gamekeepers after I remove seven slim, silver spears that they are all focused on small chit-chat and are all itching to get home. I present myself, say my name, and then angle myself in front of the dummy. I feel my hands shake, I would've waited for my nerves to calm down but I fear that if I wait too long they'll loose attention.

I throw the spear anyway, it just nearly misses the dummy's heart, flying in-between the arm and side. The Gamemakers turn away. I get a tad angered by this and throw another spear- -it lands in the dummy's fake heart this time. I throw two at the sometime, they both land in the heart. I turn toward the Gamemakers once more, only a handful are actually watching and about two of those actually care.

That's when the pig comes out. A large, roasted pig that seems to be drizzled with honey and an apple in it's mouth gains their attention faster than I ever had or could by this point. I snap then. _A pig!_ I scream in my mind, _A dead pig is more interesting then this! Why I ought to- -_

To late, I did it.

The last three spears go soaring threw the air, all three skinny, pointed tips land int the pig's large eyes. Always the eye, why the eye! The Gamemakers turn towards me in disbelief.

I curtsy with an outraged look on my face, "Enjoy your pig." I snap, and then leave the room without another word said.

I'm as dead as that pig now


	7. Chapter 7

**7** As I walk towards the elevator, I brush past at least ten gasping and staring Avoxes. By their expressions I know I'm deader than I could've ever imagined. I walk into the elevator and roughly slam my palm against the number twelve button, I watch as the doors slide together and I'm whisked up and away from the mess I've created.

What will they do to me? Arrest me? Cut out _my _tongue?- -Avox girl'd like that, I bet- -Will they make me an Avox? Will they hurt my family? No, not Jamie! Not Madison! Not my mother! They wouldn't harm an already sick woman, would they? Oh, dear god, what've I just done?

I run straight for my room as soon as the doors open. I hear everyone calling my name but I then lock my door, hide under my covers, and close my eyes as a few tears trickle down my face. I wasn't trying to shoot them, honest! Will they think I was? Trust me, if I wanted them dead they would be. I should've stayed and apologized, or laughed- -pretend it was a joke. Maybe then they'd just spare my family and send me to jail. But, no. I had to let my temper flare and walk out, not to mention that rude comment I made. '_Enjoy your pig.'_

Effie is knocking at my door in her most annoying fashion- -knock, knock, knock. Pause. Knock, knock, knock. Pause- -but I also know Haymitch is there, for there are interrupting knocks in-between her own.

"Go away!' I shout at them, it takes another minute of pleas for their enterance and no's from me before they leave. I sit there, for an hour, waiting for them to come. Eventually I come to my senses, they need a girl from District 12 still. They wouldn't kill me, at least not publicly. They'd only wait for the arena and sic a pack of rabid, muttation wolves on me. And probably make sure there are no arrows or spears available in the Cornocopia.

But, before all of that mess, they'll give me the lowest possible score. A one or a two, or even a zero if they're impeccably angered. No one's ever gotten a zero before so I'll be the first, that way the other tributes will try and pick me off first. They do the scoring announcements tonight, let everyone have a basic knowledge of who is the best to bet on before the start of the Games. The number, which is registered between one and twelve, one being as low as possible- -except for me, to night is probably going to be the first time they deliver a zero- -and twelve being the highest, shows the significance, promise, and best chance to live for a tribute. Sometimes those who get high scores are sought after immediately, but other times it's those who get the lowest that they get out of the way. It all depends on the other tributes opinions. There was once a boy who won and he had a three, there was also another who won that'd gotten a ten. I was hoping for at least a seven, seeing as I can hit a target with two- -actually, counting my hit with the pig, three- -spears at the same time. Now I know I won't get sponsors, I'll get the lowest number in the twenty-four tributes, and my odds of staying alive are at about the same number as my soon-to-be score- -zero. Effie comes to my door once more and pleas for me to come to dinner, I figure I may as well go. The scores still need to be shown and I can't hide the truth of the matter forever, so I was my tear streaked face and call back to Effie that I'll come to dinner and will be there in a moment. She answers back with a, "Excelent, excellent, excellent! I'll see at the table!" I roll my eyes, can she ever start a greeting without saying something three times in a row?

I walk into the dining room and realize just how tired I am, all this lack of sleep is really not good for someone about to enter the Hunger Games- -land of no sleep. I see everyone at the table, even Cinna and Portia, and they've been waiting for me. I feel suddenly upset that they are there, I don't want to disappoint them and the amazing job they've done the previous night at the opening ceremonies. It seems unfair to do that to them somehow. I avoid looking at anyone and take miniscule sips of my fish soup, it's extremely salty. I like it.

My forest eyes meet Peeta's ocean ones and I can see the question in his raised eyebrows, _What happened?_

"I don't want to talk about it right yet…" I mumble to him in a hushed tone. He stares at me for a moment, then returns to his own soup. Later on, after the main course is being served, I hear Haymitch begin to talk.

"So, how bad were you?" He says with a slight joking tone to his voice. Peeta jumps right in, "I don't know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me, singing some sort of drinking song or something. So, I just threw around a bucket load of heavy objects until they told me I could go."

I feel the tension evacuate my muscles, it's not like he 'attacked' anybody, but he was provoked as well, at the very least.

"And you, sweetie?" Haymitch asks, calling me that annoying nickname he'd come up with. It ticked my already sour mood off enough to answer with the truth.

"I through three spears at them." I say. Everyone stops eating and stares at me while I twiddle my spoon around in my mashed potatoes.

"You what?" Effie asks, horror in her voice easily detectable. Yep, I knew I'd done it.

"They weren't paying attention, like Peeta said, and were getting distracted my some stupid roast pig.." I nearly begin to yawn, but hold it in, "So, I shot my last three spears at the thing. Hit it in the big, fat eye."

Peeta nearly spits out his drink for he almost burst out laughing at this, I smirk, but quickly stop. I don't want anyone to think I support my heated anger moment, even though I am rather proud of myself.

"And what did they say?" Cinna asks, worry and caution in his tone.

"I don't know, I walked away after that." I answer.

"Without being dismissed?" Effie gasps in horror.

"I let myself be dismissed. I don't think they wanted me around longer, anyhow." I say. I feel a twinge of guilt build up inside of me, Jamie wanted me to win, to try my hardest. I could've tried harder to control my anger.

"Well, that's that." Haymitch says as he picks up a roll and butters it. He dips it in some hot chocolate, swallows hard, and says, "I still don't get how you two enjoy that."

"Wait, you don't think they'll arrest me? Or execute me? Nothing?" I ask.

"Hmm… doubt it. It'd be too much of a pain to replace you now." He answers, finishing his roll plainly.

"What about my family?" I say, "My mother, brother, and sister?" "Again, doubt it. It would't make any sense unless they reveal what happened during private performance in the Training Center, and you know that it's kept secret." He says, "More likely that they'd make your life hell in the arena."

Well, they've promised to do that to us anyway," say Peeta.

"Very true." says Haymitch. I take in the people at the table, is it true? Did they _actually _cheer me up? Wow. Usually I just have to sulk for a bit and then I feel better on my own, rarely can people cheer me up so suddenly. I smile at them, then Haymitch says with a smile of his own, "So tell me what their faces were like!"

"Shocked, terrified, uh… bewildered, and a few were just ridiculous!" I say, "One man kind of… tripped into the punch bowl."

Haymitch guffaws and we all burst out laughing, except Effie. Although, from what I can tell, she's trying not to smile.

"Well, it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention, not to let you just be ignored because you're District 12." Effie says, and then has the look that she's said something outrageous as her eyes dart to and fro around the room. Then, speaking to no one in particular, she says, "I'm sorry, but that's just what I think."

"I just know I'm going to get a terrible score, aren't I?" I say.

"Scores only matter if they're good. No one pays any due attention to the bad or mediocre ones, for all they know you could've been hiding your true talents on purpose. People've used that strategy before," says Portia.

"I hope that's what people interpret the four I'm going to probably get." Peeta says, "If that. Really, is it really all that impressive to watch a person throw around a giant ball? One nearly landed on my foot!"

I laugh a little bit a nudge Peeta's arm. "It's true!" He protests. I then realize how hungry I am and take off a large slice of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, peas, corn, and dig in. You know how they say turkey makes you tired? It's true.

After dinner, we made our way into the sitting room to watch the scores announced on television. We had finished dinner early, so it wasn't yet on. I drowsily sat myself down, Peeta sat next to me. I asked him, if I happen to fall asleep, to wake me up for the show. He agreed, and I leaned my head back to sleep.

My dreams were filled nightmarish events once again.

_I'm in the Games, sitting in a tree with my head against the trunk. I'm eating a squirrel and shooting spears left and right at more of them- -just what Peeta said. But then, slowly I'm unable to control myself and fall until I hit the ground. It's strange, the ground, it's some what soft but hard at the same time and has some sort of rounded hill- -an ant hill, maybe? _

I wake slowly, my eyes fluttering open. But, the scene is different then I remember- -everything is tilted sideways. Then I realize, I still feel the ant hill beneath my head. I look up, and see Peeta. My head's been lying on his shoulder. I jerk upright abruptly. Peeta looks at me, and I glare at him.

"Why'd you let me sleep?" I snap, irritated.

Peeta holds his hands up in defense, "You said not to wake you up until it starts."

My head snaps towards the screen, it's just begun. District 1's second tribute has their face on the screen with a number circling it- -the number seven. That's their score. Seven. My head turns back to Peeta.

"You were a person too late." I joke, but with a hint of seriousness that he cannot be overlook. He nods an apology. Why wouldn't he just wake me? I'm distracted by the other tribute's scores and the fear of my own to ponder over this much further. All the Career tributes naturally got in the eights-to-tens, most of the other tributes got somewhere around a seven. I see Peeta slowly begin to bite his nails.

"Chill." I tell him, bumping him in the arm with my elbow. He jumps slightly.

"Well, I guess you're right." He says, and I smile cockily. "I'm going to do bad no matter how much I bight my fingernails." I frown.

I watch as Rue's score of eight dances along the screen underneath her photo. _How'd she manage that? _I think. She's incredibly tiny so she must've done something really impressive to get that score.

Peeta's face shows up on screen, I see him tense up from the corner of my eyes. The number zoom in and we see it under his name. Eight. He jump sin his spot with joy. "See that!" I say, "I told you so!"

"I'm sure you'll do just as well." he says.

"I doubt it." I say, as his face disappears and mine slowly fades in. I prepare for the worst. My fingernails dig into my palms, then they grip the couch with horrifying anticipation as I watch the number fly under my name. My mouth drops open.

Elven! I've got an Eleven!

Effie Trinket lets out a squeal and everyone else begins to give me congratulatory pats on the back and cheering and complimenting me on my success.

"Haymitch? How is this… why!" I ask, confused but happy.

"Guess that they liked your temper," he says. "They got a show to put on, they need players with heat. Tempers. Like yours."

"Tulip Joneswood, girl on fire!" says Cinna, hugging me. "Oh, just you wait until you see your interview dress."

"Fire?" I ask.

"Of sorts." Cinna replies mischievously. I walk towards Peeta to congratulate him.

"You did great." Peeta says.

"You did too." I say.

"Not as good though." He says.

"But you thought you'd get a four, and you did much better than that." I say, feeling rather awkward.

"And you expected a one or a two." He says, "I guess the lower you expect the higher you receive."

I smile a little, and yawn. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight." He says and is taken away by Portia and Effie for congratulations. I sprint towards my room, cuddle up in my blankets, and thank the universe for not getting me arrested or killed. I fall asleep near-immediately and have my first good dream since forever now.

When I wake up, it's dawn. I sit in bed for a while, watching the sun come up into the beautiful morning. I wonder if Gale'd made it to the woods yet, we usually devote all of Sunday to rounding up food for the rest of the week. We'd hunt it, gather it, and then barter it down at the Hob- -a place where trading is held, usually the illegal kind, since we're not really supposed to leave the gate to hunt. I think of the elven flashing under my face, and wonder what he'd think of it. He'd probably say something like, "Well, there's room for improvement there." and smile, I'd slap his arm and smile back.

I can't help compare my relationship with Gale to my one with Peeta- -or, near one with Peeta. Peeta can be shy at times but outgoing and actually quite funny at others. Gale is more so one of those people who always speaks their mind. Though, as I think of them, I can't bring my mind to see of what they'd be like in the same room. They must've been at some point, we're all from the same district, so why does it seem so impossible?

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Effie calls, knocking on my door and making me jump. "It's going to be a big, big, big day!"

_What, is that her catchphrase or something?_ I think.

I rise from my bed and dart to the bathroom to take a shower, minding the buttons I hit to avoid another half hour scrub down to remove that strange, yellow soap. I head down to the dining room for breakfast and find that Peeta, Effie, and Haymitch had already beat me there and are seated in a huddle around the table, speaking in hushed tones. I find this strange but am distracted by all the food and my stomach's growl sets my course- -food. I stock up my plate with stew, made with tenet lamb and died plums, and find myself sitting next to Peeta for what seems like the thousandth time. I don't mind though, better than Haymitch or Effie.

I take a few quick swigs of my hot chocolate as a drink before I snatch a piece of bread from the basket and dip it. "So, today you teach us our interview tragedies, right?"

"That's right." says Haymitch, who takes his spoon and shovels the last of his stew down his throat.

"You don't have to wait for me, I don't mind listening and eating at the same time." I say, taking my turn at shoveling down the delicious stew.

"Well, there's a slight change of plans was to our approach." Haymitch says.

"That is?" I ask, unknowing of what our approach had ever been. Trying to act terrible in front of the other tributes is all I can remember.

Haymitch shrugs, "Well, Peeta's asked to be coached separately."


	8. Chapter 8

**8** Betrayal. Could that be the feeling that's swelling within me? It fits well enough. To think I was actually beginning to trust that traitor. Well, we are tributes after all. Maybe Peeta does have some sort of secret he'd like to keep. This unnerves me, why'd he keep a secret? I've been blabbing all of mine to him for the past few days. Maybe that's it! He doesn't want to blab to many of his own secrets, that seems good enough. But, thinking of the boy who'd given me bread, the boy who'd help steady me in the chariot, the boy who'd saved my butt with the redhead Avox, and the boy who was talking to me on the roof- -could I not feel betrayal when we've had some sort of unspoken agreement that would make us evenly trustable. They kind of unspoken agreement that allows you to, if found by each other in the forest, to just leave each other alone and hope they get killed by someone other then yourself.

Though, I am slightly relieved. Maybe we can stop this 'always together and dressed the same' thing. It's getting unbelievably strange and utterly annoying.

"Okay, then." I say with a slight look of confusion. And hopefully no look of hurt. "So what's the schedule?"

"You'll each have four hours of Effie for presentation and four with me for content." Haymitch says, "Tulip, you start with Effie."

What in the world has Effie planned? She takes me into my room and puts a long dress and high heels on my bed and waits for me to get dressed. I put on the ridiculously frilly thing with lace around the bottom and was obviously made for the Captiol people who actually like to dress like lunatics. The heels were alright enough, a plain color, but were extremely tall. I've never really wore heels before, at least ones not this tall. Effie tells me that she's going to be teaching me how to walk in these heels as to not trip during the show. I was at first worried that this will not end well, but if she can teeter around on them all day, so can I. I hope.

The dress, on the other hand, is an entirely different problem. The frills and lace keep getting caught around the heels so I pull my dress up so I don't fall on my face. That's when Effie swoops in, whacking away at my hands, and yelling, "No! Not above the ankles!" And then she makes me smile and smile, make eye contact, hand gestures, and more smiling. Eventually she tells me I'm getting better and by lunch I'm finally let off.

"Well, that's the best I can do." She says, "And remember, Tulip, you want to make a good impression."

"You don't think I will?"

"Not if you forget to smile," she says, "Think yourself among friends."

"But, there're betting on whether or not I'll live or die!" I say, "How is that friendly?"

"Pretend!" Effie snaps, but then composes her expression and smiles widely at me, "See. You've aggravated me, and yet I'm still smiling."

"I'm going to eat." I say, stalking out of my room and leaving my heels in the hall and pulling the bottom of my dress above my knees. Though I am still mad at Peeta, he and Haymitch seemed in well enough moods, so I'm hoping my that my session with Haymitch will be better. Not the case, he just took me into the sitting room and sat me on the couch. Then, he just stared at me and frowned for a while.

I began to watch the clock, and after four minutes and forty seven seconds I finally ask, "What?"

"I'm trying to figure out what to do with you," he says. I raise my eyebrows and he clarifies, "How we're going to present you. Are you going to be charming, aloof, fierce? So far you've been like a shining star. You took your reaping with grace and held your head high, Cinna made you look unforgettable, you got the top training score. People are intrigued, but no one knows who you are. The impression you make tomorrow will decide exactly what I can get you in terms in sponsors."

"May I ask Peeta's presentation straggly?" I ask, the continue with a hint of anger, "Or am I now not allowed to ask?"

"Likable." Haymitch answers simply, "He has sort of a self-deprecating humor naturally. Whereas you're optimistic at times, but can be hostile when you want to be."

"Really?" I ask, a little surprised.

"Please. From that cheery, wavy girl on the chariot to the girl who was fighting with Peeta about who's go the better skills… very hard to peg." Says Haymitch.

"Well, my situation gives me enough reasons to be rather hostile." I counter.

"But you don't have to please any of us, just the crowd." says Haymitch, "Now, pretend I'm the audience. Delight me."

"Fine, then." I say, snapping slightly.

Haymitch acts as the interviewer while I try to answer each of the questions with a winning smile and attitude. Even though I'm incredibly mad at two of the people I'm forced to be with for the rest of my time here, and then one while in the Games. Then I start to think, why am I hopping and skipping around for the people who will be betting on my demise? The longer the fake interview goes on the more I begin to feel detest for the whole idea itself. It eventually begins to show as I spit answers at Haymitch.

"Alright, that's enough," he says, "We've got to find another angle. Not only are you terrible at pretending to like these people, I've yet to learn anything about you. I've asked you- -what is it now?- -fifty questions and still have no idea about your life, family, or what you care about! They want to know about you, Tulip, to understand you. See what makes you choose one thing over the other." "Why should they?" I snap.

"They want to know you, to sponsor you!" Haymitch says. "Try being humble. Just gush about everything, the city, the people, Cinna's clothes, everything."

I doubt it'll work, but I don't say anything. We find out within a few minutes that I'm not good at fake-gushing. We try cocky, but I'm too modest. And I'm too 'soft' for ferocity. I can't do funny, witty, mysterious, sexy, or vengeful well enough either.

By the end of the session, I've completely angered Haymitch to the point of him drinking ever since 'mysterious' and he's developed a bitter and nasty edge to his voice. "I give up, sweetie, just answer the questions and try to be somewhat pleasant."

I have diner that night in my room and order an immense amount of food, to the point of near sickness, and then angrily kick around my pillows until I accidentally break a vase along with a few dinner plates when the larger of the four pillows hits the table leg. The redhead Avox girl comes in to turn down my bed and her eyes widen at the accidental mess.

"Just leave it." I mutter angrily. "Go on, you can leave."

But, instead of fleeing the room, the girl closes the door behind her and walks towards me.

"I should've done something. Helped you somehow." I say, fearing the smack for not doing anything and taking this long to apologize. But, she instead shakes her head, letting me know that I couldn't have done anything.

"I still should've tried." I say, she taps her finger to her lips and then to my chest. What does that mean? Her speechlessness shouldn't effect my conscience?

I spend the next half hour helping the Avox clean up the mess I've made and when everything is dropped down the garbage disposal and cleaned away. Then, as if I was a child again, she tucks me in and leaves. I thank her for all she's done in my mind, and then I fall asleep and no longer dream of her launching at me as I die onscreen.

In the morning, I awake to Flavius, Octavia, and Venia are hovering over my face. My lessons are over, and hopefully Cinna can actually do something helpful for me.

The team works on me for hours on end, until much later in the afternoon. They make my skin glow and feel like satin, sketch patterns on my arm and partially on my stomach- -which I question without an answer- -flame designs on my twenty perfectly shaped nails, and then Venia works on my hair. She entwines it with red strands that create patters that hang in my made-straight hair. Then they places red lipstick delicately on my lips and dark eyeliner to bring out my lashes that throws off little bits of light when I blink.

I was then told to close my eyes, I heard Cinna walk in the room and then a silk-inside of the dress, but then it continues down my body until it stops at my waist. Then, another piece of silky fabric is placed over my head and I feel the fabric's spaghetti-straps on my shoulders and my partially revealed stomach- -just an inch above and below my stomach- -which answers the question about designs. After that, I am put into a pair of open-toed pumps. Looks like my entire lesson with Effie was pointless, these shoes are several inches shorter than the ones she'd had me teetering around in.

"Open your eyes." Cinna says, "Go on. I can't wait to see what you think."

I see myself, then. And I look glorious. Amazing. Breathtaking. I'm usually a modest person, but saying that I look beautiful or astounding is being modest. My short shirt and long skirt combo is gorgeous, fully bejeweled in reflective precious gems that are red, yellow, and white with littler ones with blue accented tips. The slightest movement allows for an engulfment of different hues of fire.

When we're finished staring at me, Cinna whispers "Twirl,Tulip, watch what happens." to me. I follow his instructions, spinning a few time in an obscure circle, as the prep team screams in admiration. Cinna later dismisses them and I still stand in awe of the fire-like effect that makes the bottom of my outfit appear to have flames dancing along it.

"So, are you ready for the interview then?" Cinna asks.

"No. Haymitch has no idea what my approach should be." I say.

"Well, why do you need an approach? Why don't you just be you?" Cinan says.

"Myself? Haymitch says I get too hostile when I get angry." I answer.

"Well, that's because you're by Haymitch." Cinna says with a grin. "I don't find you so. I find you darling, and the prep team adores you. You even won over the Gamemakers and the Capitol citizens can't stop talking about you and your spirit."

My spirit? I guess that means my attitude, my optimistic nature in a bleak- -well, not bleak to them- -world. Okay, maybe I can get angry easily but I am easily liked when they don't go around saying harsh or unreasonable or untrue things.

Cinna takes my hand, "Suppose when you answer your questions that you pretend to address a friend. How about Peeta? You two seem close."

I scoff, "Yeah, well, I'm not too fond of Peeta at the moment.'

"Well, how about me then?" says Cinna, "Don't you think of me as a friend?"

"Yes, but- -"

"Don't worry, I'll be with the other stylists on the main platform." Cinna says. "You can look at me and when you're asked a question, look at me and answer as honest as you can, okay?" I nod.

Honest. Honesty will be my strategy. It's a plan, or at least, a idea for a plan. Cinna turns the doorknob and opens the door, I grab his hand.

"Cinna, I… I…" I get terrible stage fright all of a sudden.

"Remember, they already love you," he says lightly, "Just be you."

We meet up with the rest of the District 12 crowd at the elevator. Portia and her gang have definitely been at work, Peeta looks absolutely handsome in a black suit fit flame accents. And- -thank you Cinna!- -we look grand together, but aren't matching. Haymitch and Effie have dressed up as well. I compliment them on this fact, and they return it. I then compliment Peeta, to which he quickly returns plus more. The elevator doors then open, and I see all the other tributes are in line to go on stage. Then all twenty-four of us sit in a big arc throughout the interviews.

I'll be second to last just in front of Peeta. I just wish I didn't have to listen to how witty, funny, humble, fierce, charming, mysterious, and vengeful everyone else is before I go. Not to mention how bored the audience will get, just like the Gamemakers did. Though, I did to well with them. But, a spear towards the audience wouldn't be a crowd pleaser.

Right before we parade the stage, Haymitch comes up and growls in my ear, "Remember, you two are a happy pair. So act like it, alright?" Although it's slowly slipping into evening, everyone is still dressed up in the finest of summer colors. A large piece of land has been reserved for the Gamemakers. Then, I see Caesar FLickerman, the man who has hosted interviews for more than forty years bounces on stage. Each year he always dyes his hair a different color, this year it's blue. And he also has a midnight blue suit dotted with a thousand tiny electric bulbs twinkling like stars.

The District 1 tribute steps up first, wearing a provocative see-through gold gown, and begins her interview with Caesar. It's all too obvious that her strategy, it's sexy. Each interview only lasts about three and a half minutes. But Caesar is doing a wonderful job coming the tributes nerves and making each one shine in their own right. I watch, sitting with my legs crossed, as each of the district's tributes fly by. each one has their own approach that they're using. The fox-faced girl is using sly and elusive, the crippled boy is acting- -or is- -very quiet. I spot Cinna right where he promised to be. It's good that I had found him now.

Because I'm up.

Just stepping on the stage makes my breathing hitch up. What if I trip? What if I trip and fall on someone in the audience? I gracefully make my way to Caesar and shake his hand then sit down across from him, crossing my legs.

"So, Tulip, the Capitol must've been a large change from District 12, what's been the most impressive thing for you so far?" Caesar asks.

"Well, I'd have to say it's the hot chocolate." I say, looking at Cinna, who is just behind Caesar. "What's your favorite part about it?" He asks, I freeze for a second. Look at Cinna. And then be honest.

"When you dip bread in it." I say, and the audience bursts into laugher. I smile and chuckle along with them. Considering hot chocolate isn't exactly made for dipping, I can see how they find it funny.

As the audience's laughter draws to a close, Caesar says, "Now, Tulip, when you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart stopped. It literally stopped. What'd you think of that costume?"

Cinna raises an eyebrow at me, he wants to know too. "I loved it."

"Really?" Caesar says, genuinely interested.

"That is, after I got over my initial fear of burning to a crisp." I say, the audience chuckles again.

"Yes, speaking of, what were those flames real?" Caesar asks.

"Yes, and I'm wearing them again tonight." I say, the audience _ooh_s. "Would you like to see?"

The audience cheers and Caesar nods and says, "Yes, yes! Of course!"

I stand and move in small circular motion, letting the audience _ooh_ and _ahh _at the swaying, fiery beauty that is Cinna's design.

"Oh, do that again!" Caesar calls in awe, I twirl some more and the audience watches with wonder as my skirt flies out, showing the beautiful flames flicker out and take the breath away from the audience. I then sit back into my chair, slightly dizzy but able to manage my balance.

"So," Caesar begins once the audience's cheers die down, "How on earth did you manage an eleven? I don't think I've ever seen anyone score above a ten."

"Well, as you know it's a secret, but I can honestly tell you that I think I was the first to ever do it." I say.

"Are you sure you can't say more?" Caesar asks, I look down at the Gamemakers. The one who'd fallen into the punch shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could." I apologize.

"Well, lets go back then," says Caesar, "that moment you were called. How'd you feel?"

You could've hear a pin drop, "Well, I just knew that…" Honesty, honesty, honesty. "I didn't want to let my brother and sister down."

"What did they say to you? After the reaping?" Caesar asks.

"My little brother, James, he made me promise not to loose." I say, the audience is hanging on every word I utter. "And that's why I won't loose. For him."

"And we all wish you the best of luck." Caesar says, taking my hand and standing up as I do, "District 12's Tulip Joneswood, everybody!"

The audience cheers long after I'm seated back stage. I'm given subtle thumbs up from Cinna to let me know I did well. I've tuned out part of Peeta's interview. Not on purpose, but I was still lost in the after shock from my appearance on stage. I know one thing, though, he has the audience on the floor laughing from the moment he walks up stage. I finally tune in around the shower anecdote.

"So, Peeta, what is the most impressive thing you've experienced in the Captiol?" Caesar asks.

"The showers." Peeta says with a nod, and the audience laughs and Peeta joins in. "Let me ask you this, Caesar, do I smell like roses?"

Peeta holds out the collar of his suit and leans towards Caesar, who sniffs cautiously and gives a nod to say 'yes, actually.' The two then take turns adding to the run of them sniffing each other that makes the audience burst into a roar of laughter.

"So, Peeta, do you have a girlfriend back in District 12?" Caesar asks.

Peeta hesitates, but gives a slight, unconvincing nod.

"What? A handsome lad like you? Come one, there must be a special girl. What's her name?" Caesar asks.

Peeta lets out a solemn sigh, "Well, there is this one girl…"

"That a boy!" Caesar says, patting Peeta's shoulder, "So, how long've you liked her?"

"Oh, man, umm… since as long as I can remember." Peeta says, "I don't think she'd noticed me until reaping, though."

The audience lets out sounds of sympathy, unrequited love they all know of and relate to easily. I can't help but wonder who the girl is, even I- -the girl who prior to this only knew Peeta as the 'bread boy'- -had noticed him. The wrestling wins, the flour flinging, and all the other things.

"She has another fellow?" asks Caesar.

"No, no… she'd told me that much, but I do know the tons of boys like her." says Peeta.

"So, here's what you do. You win, go home, and she can't turn you down then, right?" Caesar tries to encourage.

"I don't think that'll help in my case. Winning… well, it just wouldn't help." says Peeta.

"Why ever not?" a mystified Caesar asks.

Peeta blushes a rich red and stammers out the sentence as best he could.

"Because… well, because… umm, she's come here… with me."


	9. Chapter 9

**9** For a long moment, the cameras are holding on Peeta's downcast eyes as his red cheeks turn a lighter shade; everyone lets the news sink it. Then, my face is on the screen. My expression, a mixture of shock and- -annoyingly- -a bit flattered. My cheeks turn scarlet and I tilt my head down. _Peeta likes me? _I think, as Caesar continues on with an extreme edge of bad luck in his tone.

"Oh, dear. That's a real piece of bad luck." Caesar says, the road murmurs with agreement and I can hear a few cries of agony shoot out along the crowd.

"It's not good," agrees Peeta.

"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady," Caesar says, "She didn't know?"

Peeta sadly shakes his head, "Not until now."

My eyes flicker up to the screen. I'm still blushing, but is it possible that my cheeks got even _redder?_

"Well, I wish we could get her back here and a get a response- -" Caesar is cut off by the audience's cheering, "- -but, unfortunately, rules are rules and her time has been spent. Best of luck, Peeta Mellark, and I can honestly say I know that all of our hearts are with you."

The roar of the crowd is unbelievable, Peeta's made his mark and wiped out the rest of ours with his declaration of love. For me. His declaration of love for me. When the audience settles, he chokes out a "thank you" and returns to his seat. We stand for the anthem and I'm forced to raise my still lightly blushing face for all of the cameras to see. The camera is now aimed straight at a shot of Peeta and I, and we look like we've chosen to sit so close to each other when in reality the spaces between the chairs have been tightly packed together. As soon as the anthem is over and Peeta and I can escape to the back, I pull his hand away behind a curtain. I know the camera filmed me pull his hand, but I don't care. They're only allowed so far unless asked. So, after I've pulled Peeta aside, away from the camera's prying film, I push my arm against his chest; locking him in place.

"What was that! Why did you do that?" I yell.

"What are you talking about?" Peeta asks, genuinely confused.

"Why did you say you loved me?" I ask.

"It was supposed to be a compliment." He snaps back.

"Oh, if you were really in love wouldn't you try to see me more rather than ask to be coached separately!" I counter, annoyed. Peeta gives me an even more confused look then before and I roll my eyes. "What are you playing at?"

Suddenly, Haymitch, Effie, Cinna, and Portia are running towards us on sight from the elevators.

"What's going on?" Effie asks.

"He's plotting something, and I refuse to have that done to me by _him_ until at least the Games! I hadn't planned anything, so why should he?" I spit, acidly.

Haymitch says, "He's helping you, here!"

"How?" snap back.

"He just gave you something you could never achieve on your own!" Haymitch states angrily.

"So, what's that?" I ask, impatiently. Cinna is right, I do get easily angered around Haymitch.

"He made you look desirable. As soon as he said he wanted you, you've become the sole thing people are talking about. You've go to _act _like star-crossed lovers if you want to get any sponsors, got it?" He snaps, "It's all about the show, it's all about how you're perceived. So, you are going to act this part, and act it well."

My eyes widen, that must've been Haymitch's plan the entire time. Star-crossed lovers. I needed to look genuinely shocked and that's why they hadn't told me until now.

"It doesn't matter, anyhow." Peeta says, and I see Haymitch offer a cameraman the once-in-a-lifetime chance to film this. Which means I know what Haymitch expects me to do, act the part, "_you_ didn't say you loved _me_. So what does it matter?"

I'm not surprised by Peeta's fine acting skills. He's lied for me, covered for me, tons of times. I hope I can be just as good, but I feel odd acting like this. Oh, well… if it means survival. The cameraman is in place, time to act.

I run up to Peeta and hug him around his middle, I can see- -from a screen behind him- -the look of shock that's on his face. I stand on my tip toes, just a little bit because though Peeta is taller than me the heels make up for part of it, and kiss him on the forehead, the nose- -again- -and the cheek. I can hear the audience cheer and hoot and _aww_ as the scene goes live. This still feels wrong somehow.

Peeta eventually begins to come out of his initial shock and hugs back with a smile. Wow is he a good actor. I pull away from Peeta and smile, as brightly as I can to try and hide the awkward feeling festering inside me, and we begin to walk away. Cinna, Portia, Haymitch, and Effie pretending to block us from the view of the camera, as if Haymtich hadn't beckoned him over, and I curl my pink around Peeta's. I can nearly feel the heat of the camera on my fingers.

Peeta is positively beaming. I like when he looks happy, but it feels fake. I try to mimic his expression. At least I know everyone is in on it, but then, as we walk towards the elevator, I lean towards Cinna and whisper, "was my expression right? For the whole 'star-crossed lovers thing?"

"Yes." Cinna says, "With the blush it was perfect."

We enter the elevators and the escalation upwards seems to take forever as I replay tonight's events in my mind. We reach District 12's floor and we can smell our dinner down the hall. Peeta sits next to me and the food comes in, warm and delicious as always. I realize then that this whole 'always together' thing had a purpose, and it was going to start happening all the more frequently.

After dinner, we watch the replay in the living room. I seem honest and myself, a more Effie-like version of myself, but the others assure me I was charming. Peeta was in all forms a true charming during his interview, though he wasn't so sure.

"Wow, Peeta, you're really good in front of a crowd." I say, watching as the rose-smelling joke begins.

"No, I'm really not all that funny." He says, "You were the good one." I nudge him with my elbow.

"You have a real habit of hypocrisy, don't you?" We laugh lightly. You see? This feels normal…ish. Like friends, the way we were for a time before the lone-coaching thing. A little more like friends, but friends just the same.

It's then that I see it, Peeta is the one that continued to make me that 'shining star' Haymitch'd mentioned. Not me, him. His love declaration for me made me memorable, not my Effie-style twirling. It then cuts to Peeta saying '_…_you_ didn't say you loved _me_. So what does it matter?'_ Then, when I'm hugging him and displacing several kisses, and we walk off with our pinkies entwined. I suddenly get a shocking jolt when I realize just exactly what day tomorrow is. Tomorrow, at dawn, we will be awakened early to prepare for the arena. Though the actual games don't start until ten, because so many Capitol citizens like to rise later in the day, Peeta and I have an early start to get to.

I know Effie and Haymitch aren't going with us, they leave here and go to the Games Headquarter- -hopefully working twenty-four-seven to get us sponsors. Effie takes both of us by the hand and, with actual tears in her eyes, wishes us well and thanks us for being the best tributes she's had, and eventually as to leave with the parting words, "I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!" and has to leave due to emotional overcome.

Haymitch crosses his arms and looks us over, just as he had the day on the tribute train.

"Any words of final advice?" asks Peeta.

"Stay together, find water a soon as possible, and when the gong sounds- -get the hell out of there. They'll be a bloodbath at the Conrucopia. _Don't _be a part of it. Just clear out and put as much distance between you and the others, got it?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Haymitch." I say, with genuine gratitude.

Peeta and I both walk up to our rooms together. Having to keep up the act, he wraps his arm around my shoulder. I don't mind as much, the more fear over comes me about tomorrow, the more I feel the need to survive, the less awkward acting like 'star-crossed lovers' with Peeta feels.

When we land at my door, Peeta says, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"And hopefully after that." I say.

I close the door behind me and sprint for my shower. I've been itching all day to get this gold paint and makeup off of me. I'm not used to it and it bothers me so. Unfortunately, I know the one soap that'll get it off. The yellow, lemony one that takes off several thin layers of my skin. I was right, it works perfectly to the point where the only trace of the prep team left is my flame designed fingernails. I want to keep them for as long as possible- -Tulip, the girl on fire.

Next, I go digging through my closest for some sort of pajamas to wear. I finally settle on a dark purple vertical striped pajama pants and shirt combo. I slip into bed and try for a good nights sleep for I know I won't be getting any after tonight.

No such luck.

I wake up several hours later, sweating and scared, because I had that dream again. That one where I die in the games in front of my family, where the watch me on screen. I watch the clock, for I have nothing better to do, and count the minutes that tick by. 1:23, 1:24, 1:25, 1:26…

I get up, bored with counting, and slowly openly door as for it not to creak. I then tip toe down the hall. _I wonder if Peeta's awake…_ I think, _maybe he'll watch TV with me…_

I open the door, making sure it doesn't wake him if he isn't awake, and peak inside. What? He's not here? Dang it, now I have to channel surf by myself… wait, I know where he'd be!

I rush down the hall towards the staircase, I sprint up them two at a time and peak quietly inside the door- -that was left ajar- -at dome-shaped area that is the roof. The roof is not lit at night, and when I take my first step in the door I immediately see the dark silhouette against the cities bright and endless lights from the Capitol below.

Peeta.

He's sitting with his legs crossed and has his hands in his lap, he's looking down at the city. I hear a large amount of noise, singing, car horns, and music blaring so loud from below that is audible through the thick dome glass. I sit next to him, my knees in front of me and wrap my arms around them.

"You know, you should get some sleep." I kid.

I see him shake his head slightly, only half his face is visible in the light of the Capitol.

"I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all." he says, then squints, "I think they even dressed up in costumes."

"Who'd be able to tell?" I say, and he chortles slightly.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asks.

"My mind wouldn't let me…" I say, remembering my horrible dream.

"Thinking of your family?" he asks.

"Sort of, I fell asleep for a bit and they were… in my dream." I say as a chill goes down my spine. Okay, time to change the subject. "But, mostly about the Games. What it'll be like, what the terrain will be. All that stuff. How are you?"

"Doesn't matter, I've never been much of a contender in this." He says, looking down at his hands.

"That's not true in the slightest." I say, as he looks at me once more. "And you really shouldn't be thinking that way either."

"Why not? It _is_ true. My best hope is to not die disgracing myself and…" he trails off.

"and… what?" I press.

"I don't know how to put it, exactly… I just… want to die as myself. Does that make sense?" he asks. I nod slightly, yeah it actually does. I don't want the Capitol to change me. I mean, the food is good, but the people… not the kind you want to be yourself. I've already acted like Effie once, twice is not my goal. "It's like, I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster I'm not."

"You won't be a monster." I say, he shakes his head, unsure. "Do you not want to kill anyone?"

"No, I'm sure when the time comes I will, just like you or anyone else would." he says, "Only I keep wishing that I could think… think of a way to… to show the Captiol that they don't own me, that I'm not just a pawn in their chess game, you know?"

"But, we have no choice." I say miserably, "We are what we are, and what we kind of _are_ their pawns."

"Okay, but within that framework. There's still you and there's still me," he insists, "don't you see?"

I shake my head sadly, he sighs, "It's okay, but, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?"

He's locked those baby blue eyes on mine, and they're demanding an answer. I try to stare back with the same intensity as I answer, but know I cannot. "Care about staying alive and all the other things Haymitch said."

Peeta smiles at me in a sad and mocking way, "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetie."

I'm just about ready to slap him for that. How dare he call me that offensive nickname from Haymitch. "You know, just go ahead and spend the last hours of your freedom trying to plan a noble death. But me? I'm going to spend it thinking of how I know I'm going to win this for my brother."

"Wouldn't surprise me if you do." he says, "give my mother the best when you get back, will you?"

"Ugh!" I groan, "Peeta the point was for you to find some sort of hope!"

"My hope is that District 12 will have a winner this year, for my family's sake." He says. "I honestly think you'll win."

"Thanks, Peeta." I say, giving up on any chance of making him see hope. I stand up and get ready to leave, but quickly turn around again to displace an honest kiss on Peeta's cheek. I then continue walking towards the door. My hand has just gasped the doorknob when Peeta says, "But, there weren't any cameras." I turn around and lean on the door but don't release my grip on the doorknob, then I look at the Peeta silhouette.

I shrug, "Maybe it wasn't for the cameras.


	10. Chapter 10

**10** I speed towards my room and nearly miss my door. I close it behind me, _stupid, stupid, stupid! _I think, _just because he was acting all melancholy doesn't mean it's your job to cheer him up, Tulip!_ I can't believe myself, I always have to be everyone's friend. I can't cheer people up in the Games, now can I? It's time to get tough! Even though I have to act like a mushy, irrationally in love girl… this is a conflicting situation. But, I know this at least, in the Games you can't make people feel better all the time. I got to break this habit of being overly nice… for the Games, at least. I need to be tough, strong, fierce like Titus before he- - that's it!

That's what Peeta meant! Titus, the boy chosen from District 6, started off as a fierce and great tribute but then turned completely savage and the Gamekeepers had to stun him with electric guns to keep him from eating the players. That's the 'monster' quality Peeta had mean. He'd never become like that, would he? No, not Peeta. He's way too nice. Ugh, way too nice like _me_.

I yawn. No sense in pondering over this when I could be sleeping, if I _can_ sleep at all. So I tuck myself back into bed and fall asleep instantly. My nightmares don't let up, however, but at least I'm getting sleep.

I wake up the next morning by Cinna shaking my shoulder. It's dawn and Peeta's no where to be seen. I'm given a simple shift to wear and then Cinna brings me to the roof. Of which a hovercraft is flying just above with a latter down for me to climb on. I place my hands and feet on the lower rungs and the hovercraft take soy instantly. Then, as if like glue, I'm stuck there while the ladder lifts me safely inside. I expect to then be released, when safely inside, but find I still cannot move.

A woman in a white lab coat walks up to me, "Don't worry, Tulip, this is just your tracker. The less you move, the more accurately I can place it." It is then that I notice the long syringe she's carrying. If I could have, I'd be screaming. Being frozen relieves no pain as the need inserts the metal tracking device deep under the skin of my forearm. Wouldn't want to loose a tribute, now the Gamemakers will always be able to find me. During the Games, at least.

Finally, I'm released. The woman disappears and Cinna is then retrieved from the roof. A young boy, and Avox, then show sups to a room where breakfast is to be had. My stomach aches, but I still eat as much as I can. It may very well be the last full meal I eat for a few days. None of the food resisters in my taste buds for I am so nervous, I could've been eating rocks and twigs for all I'd know.

The ride lasts about a half hour and then the windows black out. I know we're nearing the arena. The hovercraft lands and Cinna and I must go back to the ladder, which I am rather reluctant to go on again after my previous experience. This time it leads down int a tube going underground, the catacombs. We follow the directions and make it to my chamber for preparation. In the Capitol, I believe they call it the Launch Room, but it's called the Stockyard in the districts. Where animals go before the slaughter. Very appropriate for the situation, in my opinion.

I will be the first and last tribute here. They use these arenas as historic sites after the Games, to be preserved and relished for the Capitol citizens to visit and vacation in. They can rematch the old Games, visit the death sites, and even reenact the Games- -they even say the food is excellent. It wasn't for those participating.

I fight against my stomach to keep breakfast down. What did I eat? I clean my teeth and shower and after that Cinna does my hair in a simple braid so it doesn't get in the way. Then my clothes arrive, the same for every tribute. Cinna had no say in this, and you can tell because he nearly looses his own breakfast at the site of it. I chuckle at this, it sounds nervous and forced. It's simple tawny pants, light green blouse, sturdy brown belt, thin hooded jacket that goes to my thighs, and then a pair of boots.

"The jacket material is designed dot reflect body heat, so expect some cool nights." he says, pulling out my MockingJay pin.

"Where'd you get that?" I say with excitement.

"Off the outfit you wore a few days ago, the gold blouse," he says. "Your district token, correct?"

I nod, "Yes!"

"I was barley able to get it cleared by the review board. They thought it could be used to give you an unfair advantage, used as a weapon." Cinna says, fastening it to my blouse, "They let it go, but there was another girl that had a ring that, when you twisted the gem stone, pop comes a poisoned spike."

"Thank you, Cinna. For everything." I say, in a near whisper.

"Your welcome. Now, unless you think you could eat anymore, we must what for the call." Cinna says. I turn down the food, my stomach wouldn't've been able to handle anything more. I do, however, find that I find security in biting my nails. However, I must switch to my lower lip as to not chip the paint. I feel the nervousness sep and terror take cover. I could die, lying there dead, in a hour's time. Not even. I slowly bite my lip harder and harder, even though I'm close to blood, I cannot stop myself.

"Do you want to talk, Tulip?" Cinna asks.

"Remember how Haymitch said to run, find water, an the rest will follow? Well, what if I get sliced to bits anyhow?" I ask, Cinna takes my hand in his.

"If I could bet on anyone, Tulip, anyone in the world for this, I'd place all my money on you." Cinna says.

"For real?" I ask, timidly keeping my voice just above a whisper.

"One hundred percent." He says, then kisses my forehead. "Good luck, girl on fire." He lets go of my hand, and I must now enter the cylinder. As soon as I do, I rise up for fifteen seconds. I'm in darkness, the metal plate pushing me up and away from the floor below, the cylinder, then, opens into the air. Fresh air! Oh, how I've missed it! For a moment, my eyes are dazzled by the bright sunlight and I feel it beat down on myself. It's amazing, I hardly remembered it. The smell of the woods, the wind on my face.

I indulge in the beauty and light for as long as I can. Then, I hear the ever famous announcer, Claudius Templesmith, as his voice booms and thunders around the Conrucopia. "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Annual Hunger Games begin!"

For sixty seconds we're forced to wait. Wait on our metal circles and not move. The consequences if we do? We get blown to bits. Yeah, that's right. For the first time I look around the giant golden horn shaped cone with the curved tail that is the Cornucopia. It's overflowing with food, water containers, weapons, medicine, ferments, fire starts, and- -of course- -weapons.

A few steps from my feet lies a three-foot square in plastic. Everything is set up to entice you to either fight for it or to try and step off your plate early.

We're on a flat stretch of ground, a plain of hard-packed dirt. I see nothing behind the tributes across from me. Must be a downwards slope or cliff. To my right is a lake, to my left and back sparse piney woods. This is where I must go, so says Haymitch.

But it's tempting. Oh dear, is sit tempting. But, becoming part of a bloodbath is not something I want. It's then that I see it, there it is. For me. It's meant for me.

Bows and arrows. Spears. Mine.

I'm fast, aren't I? I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school. Forty-yard length, that's my speed. Haymtich has never seen me run, maybe if he had he'd be telling me to go for it. I look at my competitors. They're my only challenge. I take them all in, Fox-face, the blonde girl, the crippled boy…

Peeta.

He's about five tributes to my right, quite a far distance. He's looking at me, and he's shaking his head. I get all the more confused when I hear a gong ring. I missed it! Sixty seconds are up and I've missed my chance!

My feet shuffle in place for a minute, confusion prevents me momentarily from moving. Then, I run straight and fast. I pick up the first thing I see, a bright orange back pack and when I touch it, another hand is there. A boy, from District 9 I think, reaches for the bag at the same moment as I do. I try to pull it away, but then he coughs and my face is splattered by blood. I get temporarily taken aback and then head backwards, taking just enough time to watch the boy collapse to the ground and a District 2 girl is revealed behind him with a hand full of knives. She looks up at me, I'm her next victim.

I slip the backpack on as I run and then I hear a knife whisk by my ear. Then, something impacts my backpack. One of her knives is now one of mine.

"Thanks for the knife!" I call to her, but I know she wouldn't dare follow me. There are too many goodies for her to take and too little that she already has. I continue running, running and running until I am safely hidden away in a cover of trees. I slow down and jog for a while, for the next few hours I alternate. Jogging then walking, then jogging then walking.

Now, I need water. Food, I can go without but it's water I need to find. There was the lake by the Cornucopia, but that's still going through a bloodbath. Slowly I watch the trees and woods go from pines to a variety of different trees. Some look completely foreign to me. I hear anise and pull the knife from my backpack. I then see a rabbit, "Great to see you, little buddy." I say. Wait, if theres one rabbit, there must be more. Ready to be trapped and snared and eaten. The ground slopes down, and I don't really like this. I feel like I've been blinded, I can't see those who are around me.

It's slowly edging later and later in the day, I can picture the cameras flashing on and off of my face. Then, I hear them. The cannons of the fallen. I count them out, one, two, three, four… eleven. Elven gone, thirteen left to play. I try to whip the District 12 boy's blood from my face. No such luck. As I wander around looking for I don't know what, I find myself wondering who were in the eleven. I wonder about Peeta.

My heart stops for a second.

Peeta. My mind is overrun with the horrible image of Peeta, cold and bled white. Being collected and transported to the Capitol, cleaned, dressed,d and then sent him to District 12 and- -_No! Stop this!_ I think, _You'll drive yourself mad with images like that!_

Hours later it slowly nears twilight, I look through my back pack to take inventory. One thick sleeping bag, a pack of crackers, a pack of dried beef strips, a bottle of iodine, a box of wooden matches, a smile coil of wire, a pair of sunglasses- -I try them on and they make the dark night clear. How odd.- -and a half-gallon water bottle.

I twist of the cap with brutal force and dump in over my open mouth. Nothing

_Is it really all that hard to fill up a bottle?_ I question in thought. I feel my lips cracking and my throat growing all the drier. Tomorrow I shall search for water, but for today I'll just have to chew on a dried beef strip. I have to find shelter. First, however, I snap up a few snares and place them in hidden locations, behind or in a few bushes. I then unhook my belt and place it on my shoulder. I then begin to climb the nearest tree, I climb up about fifty branches and settle in the tree of my choosing- -a willow.

I place my sleeping bag down and crouch down inside it, wrapping my belt around my waist so I don't fall. I've done that quite enough already at home and don't think it'd be best to do if I've got a chance of being killed. Night has just fallen on me and I hear the anthem that proceeds the death tole. I see the Capitol seal that appears to be floating through a few branches in the trees. The anthem fades but then I see the faces appear in the sky.

The girl from District 3 appears first, all the tributes from one and two must've survived. The boy form 4 is next, that's unexpected. He was a Career, seemed more likely that he'd survive. The boy from District 5 is next, both from 6 and 7, the boy from 8, both from 9- -yes, there's the boy who died in front of me. I feel my breath hitch up once as I await the fate of Peeta, dead or alive.

The girl from District 10's face is shown. The music fades. I let out a breath of relief. I don't want to kill Peeta myself, but I don't want him to die yet either. I guess we are- -well, _were _is more accurate now- - friends.

I try to think of those left. Peeta, Foxface, Thresh, Rue- -Rue? But she was so tiny. I hadn't expected that. Those are all the names I can think of. I slowly began to drift, last nights trip to the roof has taken its tole. My eyes flutter to a close slowly and the last thing I think is, _I hope I don't fall out of this tree…_

_Crack!_ I wake with a jolt. How long've I been here? My nose is so cold… _Crack! Crack!_ I goes it to be a few hundred yards away. I slowly, quietly, turn in that direction. I see nothing. A few more minutes… sparks. A small fire blooms. A pair of hands over the flames, but not much more than that is visible.

You idiot! You should've just brought a sign that said, 'Here I am, come and get me!' Dear god, look at me. I'm no less than a few feet from the Games' biggest idiot. Secured to a tree, an unmoving tree. Yeah, it gets cold. You just got to make do and try your hardest not to freeze to death. Fires aren't meant for the night in here, it's the best way to die in this game.

Poor tribute...

No, I've got to get out of here. No, no… wait. The sky is dark still but I know dawn is coming. I hear it then, several feet breaking out into a run. The fire start must've dozed off and now she's a goner. The pleading show she's a girl. I hear an agonizing scream, and then there's laughter and congratulatory voices from several people. One of them cries out, "Twelve down, and eleven to go!" this gets a round of appreciative hoots.

Did you not hear him correctly? He said eleven to go, he's counting each and every one of you. Who ever'd go along with that is a moron with a death wish, they're all going to turn on each other eventually.

I can hear them shuffling and checking supplies, I scan see a few of them now. Mostly Career tributes, the ones form 1, 2, and 4. Two boys and there girls. The ones who'd each lunch together during training.

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking." That's the brute of a boy form District 2, is it not? I'm almost positive. In horror I hear them coming towards me. They couldn't know I'm here, could they? As long as it's night and I've got my black sleeping bag with me I'm safe, which is why I snuggle down deeper into the camouflage. I keep my head out just enough to see what's going on.

They've stopped seven or so yards form my tree. They have flashlights and torches and I can see an arm here, a leg there, a boot over a few feet. Should I run? No, let's listen in, find their strategy first…

"Shouldn't we have heard the cannon?"

"I'd say yeah, noting to prevent them from immediately going."

"Unless she isn't dead yet."

"She's dead, I've stuck her myself!"

"Then where's the cannon?"

"Someone should go back, make sure it's done fully."

"Yeah, we don't want to have to track her down two times."

"I tell you she's dead!"

An argument breaks out and finally one of the other tributes silences the bunch. "We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!" My breath catches up in my throat rapidly, nearly choking me.

Peeta?


	11. Chapter 11

**11** If I hadn't have belted myself in, I would've fallen right on Peeta. Which, would've led to my early demise. Now, I hang here, belted nearly upside down in a tree, wondering what the hell was going on. Peeta is working with the Careers? I begin to feel the blood pulse in my ears as my blood pressure rises. But, I can't yell or scream at him here. Not from where I sit, or dangle, for then I'd surely be killed.

"Go on, then, Lover Boy." says the District 2 boy, "See for yourself.'

I see half of Peeta's face as a torch lights it slightly. It's swollen and he's got a lim and a bloody bandage on his arm. If I didn't hate him so much right now, I'd feel bad for my former friend. He'd shaken his head, ordered me to not go into the Cornucopia, when he did it himself. I guess I can deal with that much, all those things were extremely tempting, but to going the Career's wolf pack? No way, they're too vicious arrogant, and are basically pets of the Capitol.

The Careers stay silent until he gets out of hearing range but then whisper in hushed tones. I can still hear them.

"Why don't' we just kill him now and get it over with?" No, don't kill him… I'm going to do that! Figuratively speaking. For now.

"Let him tag along. What's the harm? And he's really handy with that knife." Is that why he wanted separate coaching? Because he's handy with a knife? How absurd…

"Besides, he's our best chance of finding her." Me, they mean me. Ha! Try looking up, morons!

"Why? You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?" Yeah, it's called a strategy.

"She might have. Seemed pretty simple minded to me, every time I think of her twirling in that dress… make she want to puke!" Simple minded? Why, if I was stuck here…!

"Wish I knew how she got that eleven, she was so close to saying it!"

"Bet you anything that Lover Boy knows…" Peeta's returning footsteps silences them.

"Was she dead?" District 2's boy asks.

"No, but she is now." says Peeta. As if on cue, a cannon fires. Wow, Peeta's actually killed someone. That's shocking… "Ready to move on?"

The Careers and Peeta set of in a run just as dawn begins to break. I take a deep breath, _Good, I've actually survived the first day…_

I remain in my awkward position for another minute as I take this in and think. What on earth is Peeta doing? Is he keeping up with this whole 'star-crossed lovers' deal? Joining the Careers to drive them away from me? Peeta knows I'd be in a tree, so why weren't they looking up? He also knows why I'd gotten an eleven… why hasn't he told them yet, then? Maybe he's keeping it a secret until the perfect moment. Or, maybe he really is devoting his whole experience here to being one half of the star-crossed lovers. Maybe I should, too. Either way I'd still get a lot of sponsors. Either the broken-hearted girl who needs help just to carry on without her beau, or the star-crossed lovers defying the odds and falling in love while in a death trap. I wish I knew what was going on in that head of his!

I finally pull myself back on top of my tree branch and listen as the birds fall silent and then shout their warning call. Just like when I was in the woods with Gale and saw the Avox girl. Then, as always, out of no where appears the giant hovercraft above the dying campfire. I see the dead tribute girl slowly and cautiously being rises up into the hovercraft. Then it vanishes, and the birds continue to fill the forest with song.

I wiggle out of my sleeping bag and roll it into my orange backpack. How that thing is ever going to be camouflaged, I don't know. Peeta'd know, he'd know how to camouflage anything with the skill he's got. I wonder if the Careers know that little tid bit of information…

I have to get moving. Water, must find water…

I wonder what the audience is thinking, about seeing me in the tree. I'm sure they cut to my expression at least once. What will they be expecting from my reaction? Sad? Confused? Devistated? I need to act the part, act like a girl who's possibly just gotten her heart broken. Who's just been betrayed.

Betrayed shouldn't be too hard.

I slowly make my way down the tree, trying to look all of the ideas that I've come up with. I'll furrow my eyebrows for confused, frown and pucker my bottom lip for sad and devastated, and shake my head slowly for betrayed. I know that as soon as my foot hits the ground, a close-up will be framed on my expression. So, I jump from the last branch and land in a crouch. I slowly rise, keeping my head down. Then, I lift my head. With the saddest and most confused expression I can manage, making certain to keep my eyes down as if I cannot believe what I've just heard. I can almost hear the sad cries of the audience running to sponsor me.

I then remember my snares, and my head snaps up. I dig through the bushes and cheek them. I've collected one rabbit by the end of the search, I need to make a fire to eat it. Wouldn't want rabbit fever. Again. Then, I remember the fire-starter tribute. Surely there are some hot coals left, right?

I scamper towards her camp and find that there are some left, i cut up the rabbit and split out branches so they allow the rabbit to hang just the right way for cooking. I set it over the coals and turn it slowly. The cameras suddenly seem like a blessing, the more sponsors see my talents- -hunting, climbing- -they'll see I'm a good bet and will sing up for me. As the rabbit finishes cooking, I pull on my gear and kick some dirt over the coals. I then make my way to go the opposite direction of the Careers. I eat half of my rabbit, enjoying each bite. Savoring food always settles my hunger stomach all the faster. It stops the grumbling, but not the itching thirst I feel.

Water…

I hike along and can almost feel the anticipating stares of the Capitol people, they must be on my face or at least cutting to it every so often. I try to sniffle a little bit, as if holding back some tears. It'd make me look slightly weaker, but I can make up for it later. And the Capitol people will definitely eat it up. What fun Claudius Templesmith must be having with with his guest commentators. Disecting Peeta and I's emotional reactions and behavior. What to make of it all, the wills say.

I wonder of Peeta again, are these his true colors or is it an act? Will this effect our betting odds and sponsors? If we have sponsors, that is. I think we do, or maybe did. Has he thrown the whole thing down the drain, or is his not mentioning of me to be helping me along silently? I wish I could stop thinking of Peeta, but he causes so many questions! Maybe they'll think I'm unaware of it and be routing for me to figure it out and run into his arms. Too bad his arms belong to the Career pack now.

I look up and watch as the sun rises to the sky and the canopy makes it seem over bright. It's been one day and I'm already dehydrating. I try to remember everything I've learned during training about water. Where to find it, how to make it drinkable…

Water runs downhill, so I should continue down hill to find it. If I could follow an animal trail maybe, or some vegetation too. I'll just have to walk around until I see something change.

Nothing changes.

I know I'm heading for trouble. Parts of my tongue are dry, my head is aching, and the sun is hurting my eyes. I try the sunglasses again, remembering them from last night, but they distort everything and give me a headache.

I think I've finally found some sort of sign of water around noon- -it's hard to tell, but I the sun is in the center of the sky. A bundle of berry bushes. I strip a few from the bush, and squeeze it. Drat! This juice is blood red and the shape is different then from what I remember. I can't eat these! Not unless I'm a hundred percent sure they're fine, and I'm not. They could very well kill me!

Fatigue follows as the afternoon draws to a close. I've been liking for such a long time that it's taking its toll. But, I'm determined to hike until nightfall and hike until night I shall. I walk, walk, jog, walk, and then am at the point of stumbling over myself. I haul myself up a tree, and belt myself in. I gnaw on a few bits of my rabbit and then night falls. The anthem plays and only one face is shown.

The girl who, apparently, is from District 8. Peeta's first kill. My mind then wonders back to the Career pack, my desperate thirst is much worse when compared to the threat they pose.

Morning comes and it brings ache. My whole body throbs with creaking pain from sleeping on the hard tree without my sleeping bag. I very nearly fall off of my tree. I need to wake myself up, something's wrong. I need to be planning, getting rid of the fog that's clouding my brain.

Water. How to get water?

I could hope for rain or go back to the lake. I look up, no clouds. Great. The lake, hmm… no. Too many threats. Looking, must keep looking. Or…

Sponsors!

No, no, no… if I had them Haymitch would've sent water already. Unless… unless I'm close to water!

I begin to run, gritting my teeth for I still ache, but refuse to stop. The sun's beating down on my back, the heat intensifying. I feel it, but yet I continue on. For, I've got a purpose. I think I'm running faster than I ever have! By afternoon, I've slowed to a jog. I'm still fast, though. Fast enough.

I finally stop to a walk, looking around and trying to find anything anywhere that'll give me any sign that I've found something. My foot stomps down and lands in something mushy. Yuck, now my boot's muddy… Wait, mud? Mud. Mud! I continue to go along, smelling the air- -pond lilies! I've almost found it.

I see it, the twinkling water comes into my view. I have to force myself to slow down, I've got to keep myself from plunging my head in and slurping the entire river up. I take out my bottle, hold it under the water, and squeeze a few drops of iodine out to clean and purify it.

Now, I wait. A half hour should be fine, the most agonizing 'fine' ever, that is. I sit it next to me and stare. As I stare I think, what to do? Where to go next? Are the other tributes plans? Is Peeta keeping up the 'star-crossed lovers' thing, or has he thrown it to the wind? Is he even still alive? I haven't heard any cannons.

Half an hour is up, and it's certainly been as long as I can stand. I take a sip, but force myself to wait. Sip. Pause. Sip. Pause. Over the next couple of hours this continues without relent. By the time the anthem plays, I retire to a tree and munch on rabbit and a few crackers. Tomorrow maybe I'll just stay here, rest. Camouflage my backpack. Maybe steal a few fish from that river I saw while drinking. Maybe I'll get some pond lilies and…

_Stomp, stomp, stomp. _I hear lots of feet shake me to a wake. I look around, it's not dawn but- -what in the world?

Fire. That's what. A wall of fire heading straight towards me. I'm still strapped in and am struggling with my belt to get it loose.

I really will be 'the girl on fire.'


	12. Chapter 12

**12** I nearly jump off of my tree. I need to get out of here, I snatch up my pre packed bag- -thank you planning ahead! The world around me is smoke and flame, I can see nothing but burning trees and sparks. This was not started by a tribute.

I trust the direction of a few animals I see, deer, rabbits, and even a wild dog pack. They have better instincts, but also better speed. I just manage to keep them in my distant sight as I run. But, they're flying through the underbrush at such a graceful pace that my heavy duty boots cannot keep up with. Fallen tree limbs aren't helping either, especially the ones still on fire. The heat from it is terrible, but the smoke much worse. It slowly begins to seep inside my lungs so I pull my jacket hood down on it, I need to keep my nose covered. It helps for a while, but the heavy smoke begins to seep through that too. These flames are machine made. Perfectly crafted to choke anyone who stays in it's way for too long, Gamemaker-made. It must've been too quiet and now they're trying to bring us all together and keep the Games from dullness. An unexceptable accurence.

I giant log falls in my path and begins to roll my way, threatening to crush me. I stand firm and wait then, as it hurdles towards me, I run towards it. I get a running start and jump up, grabbing a branch from a nearby tree and pull myself up. The tree rolls seamlessly underneath me. "Ha!" I call in success, that'll give them a show. Looks like running and jumping on Capitol beds has some use to it, after all.

I continue running after that, and no more logs head my way. I wait for something else to happen, but the fire just rages on. I can't help but think of who might be dead by now. My nose and throat begin to burn and my lungs feel like they're burning and becoming leathery.

I need to keep moving, keep fighting the fire. The smoke has begun to cloud my mind, every breath I take feels heavier and heavier. I know they're driving us together, but where to? If I could just find out, I know they'd stop the fire as soon as I headed perfectly in that direction.

Then, the first fire blast hits just above my head. I scamper away and lift myself forward. The fire was just fun, now the real action comes. Another hiss and the fireball blasts to my left, several trees are engulfed in flames. I jump over a large rock and when I turn it's scorched and half gone. How many launchers do they have hidden in here?

I dive and leap and criss-cross every which way, zig-zagging through tress, and jumping over rocks and tree roots. More hisses follow and more ducking in needed. I don't know for how much longer I can dodge these things, but I'll keep doing it until the end. I wait for more hisses, but non come. I'm thankful, but don't get my hopes up. This game isn't over yet. I suck in a few clear breaths, as the smoke clears for a while. Then, I hear a hiss.

And like I said, this game is nowhere near over yet.

A fireball shoots out of no where and it's headed straight for me, my face is just within it's reach when I rush to the side.

My arm! Oh god, my arm! My upper arm, right by the shoulder, is burned. The tail of the fireball caught it, and it's screaming. Or was that me? Good laugh for the Gamemakers, I bet. Tulip. The girl on fire.

The attack dwindles away slowly, I find myself breathing in every gasp of the cool, normal air I can get. If it's over, any second now I'll be seeing other tributes. Seeing Peeta. Is that what they want? To see a reaction? See if I'd kill him, or if he'd kill me, or if we'd join together and kill the others? Or is it to just get bloodbath number two rolling?

I see daylight emerge from behind the trees, softly each swirl of smoke is catching in the sunbeams. I draw my knife with my good arm for precaution, anyone could be hiding anywhere by now. My arm burns all the worse, I hate it for hurting. I hate that fire for causing. I hate the Gamemakers for starting the fire. I look around like mad, no one yet.

I'm so fatigued that I hadn't even noticed I'm in the pool until I walk around and see my feet buried up to my ankles in the water. I squirm to the edge of the pool and lie there with my bad shoulder dangling in the water. I wash the black ashes from my face, then tear a piece of cloth from my undershirt and tie it around my arm. It's the best I've got for now, the Seam has a majority of burn-related wounds. So, I know what I'm doing… I think

My arm is bad, but not fatally scorched. I'll live, thank goodness for that. I could let Jamie see me die. Not here, not now, and not until I'm old and lived a full life.

The smoke is clearing but it's too heavy for good health. Where is the others? Was there an actual purpose to this? Or did they just want to play Torture Tulip? I force myself to nibble on a cracker after a while. I look at my backpack, it's rather unharmed. A few ashes on it, but that only helps cover certain orange places. Not enough for complete camouflage, though. I nearly begin to drift when I hear feet pounding my way.

Evening has begun, and so has the show. I start running, splashing water across the pool. I hide behind a tree, ready to climb at a moments notice, and listen. My followers are not as healthy as I. They're coughing, shouting in raspy voices, and seem to be dragging their feet slightly. I begin to climb my tree out of fear, and am several branches up when the spot me. They run over, their feet slowing them down. All six, none dead. I hadn't heard cannons, but who knows what sounds were going around while I was scampering away from flaming bullets.

I see the five tributes and Peeta approach my tree slowly, I've gotten up over fifteen- -maybe twenty- -feet. Out of reach. They're all grinning and snarling at me, not Peeta. He just stares. They're all bet up, even their many weapons. They think they've got an easy kill and that I feel pretty hopeless. But I'm lighter than all of them. And this tree won't hold them up for more than a few seconds. Then, they snap and the person on them tumbles to the ground.

Now I smile, "How are you guys, holding up well?"

They're all taken aback and stare at me with confusion. I know the crowd will love it though, and as Haymitch says, it's all about how you're perceived. And I'd prefer to be perceived as cocky and unworried, you know, the opposite of how I feel.

"Holding up well enough, thanks." says the boy from District 2, "And you?"

"It's a tad warmer than I'd expected, but the air is nice up here," I say, and can nearly hear the roar of laughter I've caused to befall upon the Capitol, "Won't you consider joining me?"

"I'll take you up on that." He says.

"Here, take this, Cato." says a girl from District 1, I nearly spit at her. She's offering him _my _silver bow and arrow. The sight of them makes me want to shout foul things at her for having them, but I need to keep up my cocky attitude. I need to act calm.

I try to make eye contact with Peeta, to tell him I'll get him back for being a traitor later on, but he's intentionally avoiding me. Just polishing the edge of his blade with his shirt. I wish I could throw dirt on it so he'd have to start over.

"No,"Cato says, pushing it away. "I'm better with my sword."

I give Cato just enough time to hoist himself into the tree before I spring up twelve more branches. I'm over thirty feet in the air now, and Cato is trying his best to climb up. _Crack! _Cato falls on his backside.

"Better luck next time!" I call down. I'm hoping he's broken his neck, but he gets up swiftly and begins to curse like a sailor. Some girl named Glimmer- -Jeez… the names District 1 children have!- - scales the tree but then her feet begin to crack the branches. At least she has the good sense to stop now.

She tries to shoot me with an arrow, but it's obvious that she's no archer. She misses me by at least six feet above my head, wedge in the tree trunk. I climb a bit higher, retrieve it, and then wave it over her head.

"You don't happen to need this, do you?" I say, as I can nearly see the steam blow out her ears, "'Cause I'd like to keep it, if you don't mind."

"Oh, just let her stay up there." Peeta says harshly after they regroup and murmur angrily about the fools I've made them out to be, "She can't go anywhere and we can deal with her in the morning."

Damn you, Peeta! He's right though, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I begin to felt he burns in my arm again, the climbing didn't help it one bit and all of the water's cooling effect is gone.

It begins to get dark and my bravado leaves me, and my fatigue and aching stomach aren't helping in the least. I stare into the night and wait for sleep to come, but it doesn't. Nocturnal animals scamper about and I hear hoots and coos of them. I meet a pair of eyes. A possum, maybe? Wait, no it's not. I lift myself up onto my good elbow, leaning on my sleeping bag. That's no possum…

Rue.

I see her curly, frizzy hair in the light of the Career's flashlights. We stare at each other for a few moments and then she points towards something above my head. I look up, it's barely visible until a flashlight ray shoots across the sky when someone below drops a flashlight. It's a large wasp's nest.

Trackerjackers.

They're muttations made by the Capitol, solid gold bodies, much bigger, they'll continuously hunt down someone, and their stings can cause hallucinations, madness, and even death. I know they're not ordinary wasps, the Gamemakers wouldn't have that. Wouldn't be interesting enough.

I look back at Rue, but she's gone. Melted into the fondue pot that is the trees at night. Maybe I should cut the branch? Make the tracker-jackers fall onto the Careers and- -I don't want to kill Peeta. I don't want anything to do with him currently…

Is there no way I could give him a sign or something to leave? I look down, his head is resting against the tree trunk, asleep I bet. I have to cut the tracker-jackers, I have no choice right now. I know it's safe because there is now buzzing. The smoke must've dulled them, made them immobile. I grab the knife that was stuck in my backpack, and head up a few branches. My arm is killing me.

I reach the branch and begin to drive my knife back and forth through the branch. It isn't terribly thick, but with this knife it'll take a while. After I start to get a groove, the cutting moves much faster. To and fro, to and fro, to and fro. I hear the anthem begin to play, and glance at the sky while my knife digs on through the wood. No deaths today, that's okay, I guess. The audience will be built up to see this show, me jumping over logs, getting burned, the pack chasing me, Peeta refusing to look at me.

As the anthem stops and the light it creates fades, I'm forced to stop. My eyes've adjusted to the brightness and now everything is coated in an extra thick layer of darkness. The wasps are too drowsy to attack anyone right yet, I shall wait for morning. That should work.

In the dim light the Careers' torches make, I slide back down the tree and onto the branch with my things. My arm aches all the worse, and I know I'm going to need medicine. _Tink, tink, tink, tink,_ _thud. _I look up.

Thank you Haymitch!

A parachute has just landed on the end of my tree branch, the small homing beacon making a metallic chime as it flies down and then a larger thud as it hits my branch. My first gift from a sponsor, I actually have one!

I open the metal latch and it reveals a slip of paper and a small pot that easily fits in my palm. Haymitch's read my mind! I twist the top and the scent alone tells me it's medicine, some kind of burn ointment. I look at the slip of paper, _use well._

I slash my finger along it, scooping up the precious medicine, and delicately glide it up and down my burn. It's soothed instantly, and I sigh with relief. This couldn't have been the doing of just one sponsor, it must've been many. The Capitol must've jacked up the prices by now, and this little container must've cost a small fortune.

"Thank you." I whisper, to Haymitch, to my sponsors, to the people who made it, and just to the universe in general. "Thank you so much."

I then place the container in a front pocket of my backpack, maybe this will be helpful later on. Just in case. Though, I think the Gamemakers have had enough fun with fire. I slowly drift off and a bird wakes me the next morning, cawing at the almost rising sun. I look at my arm, the red, blistery burn is now a soft pink and is easily healing. I add another coat of the balm for precaution, then make my way up to the tracker-jackers.

Whatever happens with them, I know I'll have to be swift. I look down and see that the Careers are asleep and Peeta has moved during the night from up against the tree to lying with his hands behind his head, face towards the sky with eyes closed. As if he was on vacation.

_ Yeah, well, this isn't as easy for all of us, Peeta. _I remark in my head, _You better wake up soon, please do. _Why does it seem like he's not betraying me? What about this doesn't seem… true? Legitimate? Like Peeta?

I look in the next tree over and call Rue's name in a hushed whisper. She suddenly appears, her eyes only visible, as they stare at me- -alert and wide open. I point to the branch then make a sawing motion with my knife. She gave me the idea, so she should be able to get away. She nods and disappears back into the trees. I hear rustling, my god I think she's leaping from tree to tree. No wonder she got such a good score, this is what she must've show the Gamemakers.

I quickly begin to saw as I see streaks of light shine out from the horizon. I've been drawing the knife over the groove for over ten minutes when I see something moving. I turn slight, still dragging my knife across the branch, as I see the gleam of the golden tracker-jacker shine in the first rays of the morning, lazily making it's way across the papery nest. It's defiantly subdued, but I know the others'll be out soon enough.

I drag my blade all the quicker, I'm nearly there. So close, to and fro, to and fro, to and fro…

Several more tracker-jackers have made their lazy way out of the nest. To and fro, to and fro, to and fro! I cut until the last of the branch is dangling by an string of wood one centimeter thick. I then push the nest away from me and break it off the tree. It cracks like a fallen e.g. and the swarm of infuriated tracker-jackers hits the ground. It's pandemonium. The Careers wake abruptly to a full tracker-jacker attack. A few of them bolt immediately after waking while the others stay and scream "To the lake!" but the angered wasps follow them to no relent.

I look over the edge of the branch to see if Peeta'd made it, if he'd gotten away, when I feel a sharp pain on my leg. I've been stung. I pull the sharp stinger from my thigh and feel the intense and immediate effect of their venom. I nearly fall out of my tree, but have the good sense to climb down before that. I cling to the tree and watch as Glimmer, off in the distance, falls to the ground twitching. A girl from District 4 staggers out of view, but I'm near positive she's not going to make it.

The nest is now an empty egg shell, noting left but the hive itself. I make my way to the lake, staggering and hitting the ground running until I realize I've just tripped into it. I rest my leg in it and wait for any possible tracker-jackers to leave the area. I then pull myself to a rock and watch the apple-sized bump left from the tracker-jackers' stinger ooze a rather unpleasant green liquid.

I look off in the distance, to distract myself from the pain and oozing, to see poor Glimmer give her final twitch as her hand stiffens around the bow…

I'm up on my feet and limping throughout the forest towards her, and the bow. My bow. I kneel by her side. No cannons have stopped yet, so she must be in a coma of sorts. I try to pull the bow and arrows from her stiff and unrecognizable body. She was such a beauty on the stage during the interviews, now look at her. She looks as if she's about to explode for the venom has puffed her up three times the size she used to be. I pull on the bow and break it loose from her grip, then I shove the puffed up body that once was Glimmer to the side and try to get the arrows loose from off her shoulder.

I see her flesh vanish to dust and blow away in my fingers.

Did that just happen, or am I hallucinating? I hear a few cannon shots boom in the air, and finally break the arrows away from Glimmer just as the birds give a warning call that the hovercraft is coming.

I break into an unsteady sprint for I hear footsteps coming, they're back. They've either come for their weapons, to kill me, or both. I make it about four feet away before I collapse on the ground, everything is in triples. Three trees somewhat connected. Three birds in the sky, three squirrels running up a tree, three Peetas running towards me.

The three Peetas slowly melt together to form one, very shocked and upset, Peeta. "What are you doing here still?" he hisses at me, I watch as his entire body begins to glow and sparkle. He looks dazzling-like again, like he's on fire again. "Are you mad?" he pulls me from the ground and yells, "Get up! Get up!" he then shoves me continuously away from him, "Run!" he screams, it echoes loudly in my ears, "Run!"

I sprint away, and shed Cato slash is way through a bushel of small trees. He's sparkly too, but isn't as dazzling as Peeta. But he does have a badly stung spot under his eye. His sword sparkles in the morning sun and I listen to Peeta and run, gripping my bow and arrows tightly for fear they might slip away from me again.

As I spring, trees invade my path. I bang into them, fall, then get up and run just to bang into another. Eventually I stop bumping into them, but I see a bird that shrinks to the size of an ant before amy eyes. Then, as it lands gracefully on a tree the size of a broccoli, it burst and shoots stars and sparkles and crescent moons everywhere like a light show. Trees melt to hot chocolate and slosh around under my trotting feet. I fall again, as the world bends and twists in frightening ways, and ants overtake me. The ants crawl into my eyes and I have my last registering thought.

_Thank you, Peeta, for saving my life again..._


	13. Chapter 13

**13** Nightmares. I wakeup and think, _It's over. Finally… _I see Jamie and Madison running towards me with their arms wide open, I've won the Games. As they've nearly reached me- -made it several feet away- -Cato appears with his sword glistening in the sun. Jamie and Madison look on with fear as Cato slices them in two, I scream and kneel at their side. I wake again, and this time I'm in the forest and see Peeta. He runs towards me, pushing me along screaming, "Get up! Run! Run!" and then we take off down the forest. It seems we've made it away from whatever Peeta had warned me about. _It's over. Finally… _I look at Peeta, and an arrow shoots through him. I look down, it was my arrow. I've shot Peeta. He falls to the ground and I fall too.

I look around me groggily, I lie there still. Waiting for the tragic nightmare to come, but it never does. I look around, the venom must be finally out of my system. I lift my hand to my face and feel my eyes. Intact. There were no ants…

I slowly bring myself to a sitting position and look around me, no distorted world around me. I reach in my backpack and take out my water bottle. I take tiny sips so that I don't overwhelm myself. I must've been out for around two days. I know that the girl from District 4 and Glimmer are definitely dead. But there is till the District 2 tributes and the boy from District 1 and Peeta…

Peeta! He saved my life! But, what for? I'm positive that had nothing to do with the tracker jacker venom, that was really Peeta. If he was trying to go along with the Lover Boy thing, but what if he was really trying to protect me? And if he was, what was he doing with the Careers at all?

My head begins to hurt and I turn my thoughts to my arrows. I have arrows! My mind goes to the night mare of Peeta's death and then to the Glimmer hallucination of her disintegrating in my hands. Okay, not a good topic either. I pull up to my feet and take in my body. My sting is swollen and I have several bruises along my shoulders and all around my body.

I've completely emptied my water bottle and need to find more water. I walk of in the direction opposite of my crazed, tracker-induced wreckage. I have to move slowly for my joints are incredibly sore. Within a few minutes, I start nibbling on crackers and beef strips. I find a stream and follow it against the current, that way, I travel uphill. By the afternoon I make a small fire and cook a rabbit from one of my snares.

I hear a twig snap.

I place the rabbit off to the side and twit around once. My bow and arrow are already aimed and directed at the sound. No one is there, but I know I've heard something. Then, just as if disappearing, I see a small rounded black something hide behind a tree. It was the toe of a child's boot.

Rue.

I put the bow on my shoulder and the arrow back. I smile toward the shadow, and I have an idea.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I say, "Quite the opposite, actually. I'd been hoping to make an alliance."

Silence follows but then two shiny, black eyes peer out from behind a tree, "You'd want me for an ally?"

"Of course. You saved me with those tracker-jackers, you were smart enough to stay alive, an you're incredibly swift." I say,she blinks at me while trying to decide. "Are you hungry, Rue? I have some food here." I gesture towards the food and she swallows hard. She slowly walks into the open.

"I can fix your strings." she says.

"How's that?" I ask as she digs throughout the pack she must carry and pulls out leaves.

"What are those?" I ask.

"The leaves can help the stings. I'm from District 11, we work with agriculture. They left a lot of nests in there, so we all carry them around when we work in the orchards."

"Well, then, come fix me up." I say as I sit down and hold my leg out. Rue sticks the leaves in her mouth and chews down on them, she then places the lop of green glop on my leg, and the largest sound of relief escapes my mouth. The pain is instantly gone, and Rue giggles.

"Lucky you had the sense to pull the stingers out or you'd've had a lot worse." she says. As rue rubs the last of the chewed leaves on my leg, I notice a long burn on her forearm.

"Now, it's my turn." I say, taking her arm in my hands. She seems nervous at first, but then relaxes when she see the ointment. I rub it cautiously along her burn and this time she makes the sound of relief.

"You must have great sponsors." she says with longing apparent in her voice.

"I'm sure you have some. Have you gotten anything?" she shakes her head, "I'm sure you'll get yours soon enough. You're way to clever not to."

I pick up the rabbit from where I had left it and continue to turn it slowly over the fire. Rue sits next to me, "So, you weren't joking about wanting me for an ally?"

"Why would I be?" I say, and can almost hear the groans and fits Haymitch is letting out, "You'd be a great ally."

"Okay," she says with a smile as she hold sour her hand and we shake, "Deal." I let out an unnoticeable shiver for I know this deal won't last forever. But, I don't mention that.

I give her half the rabbit and she stares at it in awe, "this whole thing is for me?"

"Yeah." I say, "All for you."

"Really?" she asks.

"Of course. With this bow and arrow, and all of my snares I've got set up, you can have whatever you'd like." I say, and she smiles as if she'd just entered heaven. Which is ironic considering we're in hell.

Rue begins to devour her food, I watch with question. "I'd've thought that you would have had more to eat, being that District 11 does agriculture."

Her eyes widen with horror, "Oh, we're not allowed to eat the crops."

"Why? You'd get arrested?" I ask.

"No, you'd get whipped in front of everyone. They mayor is very strict about it." she says, and I can tell by the look on her face that she'd seen this all too many times. Something similar'd happen to Gale and I, I suppose, considering that we go outside the gates on a daily basis. Sometimes twice a day. But, we actually sell what we catch to Peacekeepers, so we pretty much get freebees.

"Do you get all you want?" Rue asks.

"No," I answer much the same as Rue did, "Just what we buy and what our boots track in."

"They feed us a bit extra during harvest, that way people can keep going longer." Says Rue.

"Don't you have any school?" I ask.

"Not during harvest, everyone works then." says Rue.

Weird. Its interesting to see what Rue's life is like. We nibble on our food for a bit before Rue brings up another topic to be discussed. "Is it all true?" She asks.

"Is what true?" I ask.

"You know," she says as if it's obvious, "about you and Peeta."

I look down at Rue in shock of the question, I guess I should play it up for the audience again…

"Yeah." I say, trying to sound like I'm in love but confused- -The confused part is incredibly easy to do.

"Why was he with the others, then?" She asks.

"I'm not sure…" I say as my head sulks down slightly, this is in no way fabricated. Rue then suggests that we lay out all our food to plan ahead. She's' seen most of mine, but I add the last of my crackers and beef strips to the pile. She has quite a collection of roots, nuts, greens, and a few berries.

I squish a strange berry between my fingers, "You know this kind?"

"Oh, yes. We have them at home. I've been eating them for days now." She pops several into her mouth. I slurp up the remains of my squished berry, they're delicious! And non-deadly.

We divide up our food supplies, that way if we separate we'll be good until we find each other again. Apart from food, Rue has a water skin, a homemade slingshot, and an extra pair of socks. She also has a sharp rock that she used to improvise for a knife.

"It's not much…" she says as if she should be embarrassed by it, "but i had to get away from the Cornucopia quickly."

"You did fantastic!" I say, as I spread out my supplies. She gasps.

"How on earth did you get those!" She squeals with some what joy.

"What?" I ask.

"The sunglasses!" she squeals once more.

"They were in my pack, they're kind of sucky though." I say, "they distort everything."

"They aren't for sun, they're for darkness!" Rue exclaims, " Sometimes when we have to harvest through night, they'll pass these out for those in the highest trees. One time, this boy, Martin, had tried to keep them. He hid them in his pants, so they shot him."

"They killed someone over these things?" I say, putting them on and looking around in the twilight area. They're halfway visible and halfway wonky. I take them off for fear of a headache.

"Mmhm." She says, "they're really valuable."

"I wonder who else has a pair of these." I say.

"The Careers have two pairs, but they have all of their stuff down by the lake." Rue says with a hint of fear in her tone, "They're so strong…"

"So are we." I say. "We're more than just muscles."

"Well, you are." She says, "You can shoot, but what can I do?"

"You can find food on your own, fend for yourself. Can they do that? No." I say.

"But they don't need to, they have all those supplies." she says. I smile evilly. "What?"

"Just say, for instance, that they _didn't_." I say. "How long would they last then? It is the _Hunger _Games after all."

"Tulip, they're not hungry though!" Rue says.

"No they're not, but they could be." I say.

"You have a plan?" she asks. Rue smiles as I nod. The perfect plan. The offensive plan.

We attack their food supply.


	14. Chapter 14

**14** The boom of a cannon wakes me. Rue, snuggled up next to me, wakes too. The birds are chattering and it's mid morning.

"Who do you think that was?" I ask, my mind can't get past anything but Peeta.

"I don't know." says Rue, "could've been any of the others, we'll know tonight."

"Who's left then?" I ask.

"The boy from One, both from Two, the boy from Three, Thresh and I, you and Peeta, the boy with the bad leg from Tedn, and… that makes nine." Rue says.

"Wasn't there one more?" I ask.

"Yeah, but I can't remember." Rue says, "Maybe that's the one who died."

"Maybe. I wonder how, though." I say. "What's that in your hands?"

"Breakfast." says Rue, who holds out her hands with are holding two big eggs.

"Where'd you get those?" I ask with joy.

"The marshy area over that way. Some kind of waterbird, I think." she says. We both want to cook them, but wrap them up and stick them back one into my backpack and one into Rue's. Instead we eat eat a rabbit legs and some berries.

"Ready?" I say.

"For what?" Rue asks.

"We're going to take out the Careers' food today." I say with triumph.

"How?" she wonders with excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"You'll see." I say, but in reality I've come up short. I'll think on it as we go. "So, what do we know?"

"I saw them yesterday, the boy form Three is working with them as a guard. He got stung by the tracker-jackers too, I goes they agreed to let him live if he acted as guard."

"Probably the job hey had lined up for Peeta…" I say, still wondering where he is. Whether he's alive. I look at Rue and ask, "You know what kind of weapons they have?"

"Not much that I could see. A spear, but mostly food. He would be able to hold a few of us off, but Thresh'd kill him easy." says Rue

"The fonds jus tout in the open?" I ask, she nods. "Strange… that doesn't seem right…"

"How would we get rid of it if we got it?" She asks.

I shrug, "Burn it, dump it in the lake," I poke her nose, just like I'd do to Jamie, "eat it!" She giggles, "Don't worry, okay? We'll find something to destroy it with. Breaking things is easier then fixing them."

We slowly make our way out, after talking and preparing and planning it's become late afternoon. We decide to meet up after at the sit eof where we ate our first meal together. The stream should easily lead us back to it.

"Tulip?" Rue says.

"What's up?" I ask, turning to face her.

"We should have a signal. To let each other know we're okay and we'll be back soon." she says.

"How should we do that?" I ask. She thinks for a moment, but her eyes slowly fall down to my MockingJay pin.

"There is this tune we sing, back home, it lets us know when quitting time is. I see the flag, and due the tune. Here, listen." She sings a soft, sweet four-note tune in a clear voice. "And the MockingJays carry it. That way, we know when to stop working."

I sing the tune, and Rue nods. I've got it right. "It's perfect." I've seen the MockingJays at twilight, flying around and perching on the highest branches to prepare for the night ahead.

"Okay, then." I say, "If all goes accordingly, I'll see you for dinner."

Suddenly my body is being squeezed by a pair of tiny arms. After a second, I return Rue's hug. She says, "Be carefully, okay?"

"You too, plus more." I say.

I turn and head back towards the stream, my mind teaming with all sorts of worry. Rue being killed, of her not being killed and I instead, of us being left for last, if Peeta is alive or if he's dying right now, how Jamie, Madison, and my mother are doing all alone back home.

I reach the stream and follow it downhill. My mind continues to follow the though trail of Peeta and all of the unanswered questions he poses. Then, I suddenly remember that I've never thanked him for the bread. I've wasted all the available time to say it, and know I couldn't bare the thought of meeting up with him, our weapons locked on each other's faces, while I thank him for saving me while I kill him. No, I don't think I could kill Peeta, he just so… Peeta. Too nice and too much of a friend to me in the past to kill him. Then again, he could very well be dead already. All these thoughts contaminate my mind endlessly until I finally gain the sense to wipe it from my mind and concentrate.

As I grow nearer to the Careers' camp my senses heighten immensely. I place my bow readily at my arm and as I see the mountain of the food I also see there are four tributes. The boy from One, Cato and the girl from Two, and the scrawny, ashen-skinned boy who I presume is from Three.

All four tributes seem to still be recovering from the tracker-jacker attack. Even from here the large, swollen lumps on their bodies are all too easily visible. I can tell that all the medicines they found in the Cornucopia have been ineffective. Speaking of, the Cornucopia has been picked positively clean and everything from it has been place atop of the pile. It so strange, the distance is a minimum so why move it?

While I contemplate over the possibility of a booby-trap I hear Cato shout, and he's pointing towards the woods where Rue is starting the first of the three false campfires. Which use so much green wood that the smoke is impossible not to notice if you tried. The Careers arm themselves and an argument breaks out over whether or not the boy from District 3 should go with them or stay.

"He's coming! We need him in the woods. His job's done here anyhow and no one would dare touch those supplies!" shouts Cato.

"What about Lover Boy?" says the boy from District 1.

"I keep telling you, forget him! I know where I cut him! The mere fact he hasn't bled to death is a miracle in itself!" Cato says, "He's in to shape to raid us at any rate."

Peeta! He's still out in the woods, wounded badly, and yet I still have no idea why he'd join the Careers. He's smart enough to know they were using him, so why join them?

"Come on, when we finder her I kill her in my on way and no one interferes, got it?" says Cato as they all run off toward the forest. I'm guessing he means me, not Rue. Even though Rue thought up the tracker-jacker idea, I'm the one who dropped it on them.

As they disappear into the forest, I move closer towards the pile. Making sure to keep myself hidden away. I get a sudden shocking jolt when I see Foxface, hopping and skipping towards the pyramid with precision. So she's the one we couldn't remember this morning! She hops on one foot, teetering slightly, then risks a few steps. And then launches over a small barrel into the air and lands on her tiptoes very poised. But she jumped the gun and her momentum throws forward slightly, I hear her give a sharp squeal as her hands block her fall and hit the ground. The moment after nothing happens she's regained her feet and continues until she reaches the bulky tower of supplies, steals what she needs, and takes off.

Booby-trapped. And by the strange dance she'd done I'm guessing it's bobby-trapped with some sort of bombs. But where from? I hardly think they could make them, and the Capitol defiantly wouldn't've supplied them. My head geeks towards the Cornucopia. I think, _There's no way…_

The mines from the beginning in the Cornucopia! They've dug them up, carefully place them in a circle, and dug them back into place along the food supplies. Hurray for the boy from District 3, but as for me, well, I need a plan…

My ready arrow aches on my arm and feels a thousand pounds heavier- -trying to let me now to use them. But how? I can't just shoot at every mine, I'd loose all my arrows that way. And I can't afford to loose all of them.

I scan across the pile, then towards the sky. Rue's second fire is just lighting now and I'm running out of time.

I spot something then, off to the left of me. At least ten rocks that could fit in my hand, I scoop them up, place my bow over my shoulder, and scale up the side of a tree. I make it far enough just so that I can see the dug lines that are the mines. I take the rocks in my two hands, all ten of them, and throw them so that each one hits a mine and explodes it.

And explode the mines they do.

I watch as everything seems to slow, time freezing in place, and then, as the rocks are blown up and fall just to land on another mine, I turn my head to the right so no debris harms my eyes. But it's not my eyes that can damaged.

I'm blasted backwards off of the low branch I sit on and land on the harsh ground.

The impact alone knocks the wind out of me. I feel the ground shake below me, but I cannot hear anything but a small portions of things. Little bits and pieces make their way into my eardrums, but nothing more.

The ground eventually stops vibrating and I roll to my side to catch my breath as I enjoy the smoldering debris that is the Careers' former lifeline. I stumble to my feet dizzily and flee the place on wobbly legs. I place my hand to my ear, the one that picks up no sound, and it comes away with little drips of blood on it. I try not to let fear show, even though it fills up my insides, for I know all of Panem is watching a screenshot of me. I pull my hood over my head and place one hand over my ear so it can soak up the blood.

A string of stray boxes must've finally fallen on a mine for several more blasts set off, knocking me to my knees. I see Cato and the others reaching the site in the distance, he throws several tantrums then makes his way to the boy from District 3. Kicking various containers along the way, he makes it to the boy and struggles slightly to take his head between his hands.

He finally gets the boy in his strong grip, turns his head to the side abruptly and swiftly, and the boy's body falls dead to the ground. In my right ear, my good ear, I hear a cannon blast off. They Careers flee the scene for the hovercraft to take him away. The sun dips behind the horizon and settles in for the dark night. I struggle to listen with both ears as the anthem plays in just one. I see the Capitol seal shine in the sky and the District 3 boy's face lights up in the sky, along with the boy from Ten. He must've died this morning. My left ear rings for a while but stops. This doesn't seem good.

I dig out my glasses and put them on, seeing the Careers do the same from the tree I'm perched on, and look around in the sky. I don't rise the next day until late morning, I get a shock when my eyes open to the strange, warped world that the glasses create during the day. I take them off and hop off my tree. I set off for Rue and I's site and reach it by early afternoon.

I wait with my bow ready incase anyone comes. I let out our MockingJay call and as the birds carry it along, I get no response. I try it again, no response. My heart begins to pound. I race through the forest in search of Rue, calling out her name and getting nothing back. I try the MockingJay tune once more and finally get a response.

But not the one I was hoping for.

A child's scream, Rue's scream, fill the air.I hear a high-pitched call for me echo through the trees and my heart sores to a beating pace that has been previously unknown to me, or anyone in existence for that matter.

"Rue! Rue!" I call, "Don't worry, I'm coming Rue!"

I break through the clearing and se she's entangled in a net. My heart returns to normal.

"Thank god you're alright." I say. She's shaking. I reach for my knife and cut her loose, "You very nearly gave me a heart attack."

As she escapes the net's entwining she hugs me. I hug her back and close my eyes tightly, letting all the fear, stress, and worry release from me.

All too soon.

As I open my eyes and Rue pulls away, a silver spear shines in the mid-afternoon light off in the distance. I'm on my feet with my arrow readily in my hands, shooting the boy from District 1 dead to the ground before he can pull the spear away from Rue's body.

Rue!

As she crumples to the ground, I follow her. My eyes locked on hers. I cradle her top half in my arms, refusing to let her die. Not here, not like this. My eyes well up with tears as I watch her slowly leave me.

"Don't leave me, Rue." I say, though I know it's hopeless, "Don't you dare leave me!"

I relieve the spear from Rue's stomach as her clothes dampen and grow red. Her hand reaches out and I grip it firmly, as if holding to her tightly will keep her with me. No matter how impossible that is, I still clutch to her.

"D-did you blow up the food?" She says in a barely audible whisper. This makes my eyes fill with water faster then a bathtub in the Capitol. I nod at her, and she looks at me with sudden urgency, "You have to win this, Tulip, for me."

"I will Rue, I promise you, I'll win this." I say.

"Don't leave, okay? Don't leave…" she says and I can feel her slipping away from me.

"I won't," I say, "I would never." I pat my hand down her thick, fizzy black hair and curl in behind her hair, out of her face. I watch as her eyes flutter, and silent sobs slip through my lips. She breathes only slightly. And as her last breath escapes her, I kiss her forehead.

"You don't deserve this…" I mutter, "You deserve so much better than this…"

Rue's cannon fires, and my forehead stays locked next to hers as I cry for her. For all that she was. My ally, my friend. I refuse to let her go without something to show the Capitol that this is wrong, that this is not what Rue deserved.

I go walking towards the forest, look around for that small yellow flower that is a rue, and pick them. I then walk back towards Rue, and place the rues in her hands to cover the wound. Peeta's words form the roof make so much sense to me now.

"You still deserve better…" I say in a hushed whisper as I leave for the forest once more only this time…

I don't turn back.

As twilight nears, I climb in a tree an dope for a Career- -any Career- -to walk past. They can be made to pay for Rue's too soon death, them if not the Capitol.

No one comes.

Once the anthem plays, I put my bow to the side and place my and Rue's bags on the edge of the branch. The boy from District 1's face appears and then Rue's does. As her face fades in my three middle fingers from my left hand lift and press against my lips, I then raise my hand in the direction of Rue's photo. Then, I hear it. A metallic _tink, tink, tink, tink…_

A parachute floats down to my lap and I catch it in my palm, I open the latch and look inside.

It's bread. I remember Peeta's bread lesson from what seems like forever ago during training, the discussion over what bread comes from where. This piece is moon shaped and I then know it's from District 11. A gift for my deed to Rue. I raise my head so the moonlight illuminates my face, "Thank you, District 11, thank you…" I clasp the lock back in place and put it in my bag.

As the anthem leads to a close, my good ear picks up something unusual. I jerk upright.

Trumpets, the trumpets the signal an announcement from the Gamekeepers. I listen, tilting my good ear upward, as Claudius Templesmith's voice booms around the arena from hidden speakers.

"Congratulations to the final eight tributes in the Seventy-Forth Annual Hunger Game!" his voice pounds in my expecting ears, "We've received permission from President Snow and are now to tell you of a rule change… Any two tributes from the same District may win the Hunger Games. I repeat, _any two tributes my win the Hunger Games together if they are from the same District._" I can tell by the way he repeats it that some were confused, and that he's trying to tell me near-exactly. He wants me to know this, I can tell.

"That is all.'' He ends as my eyes widen with realization, "May the odds be ever in your favor."

The news sinks in slowly, and I hear someone call a name. Peeta's name.

And then I realize it was me.


	15. Chapter 15

******_A/N: Okay, I didn't want to do any authors notes but this chapter deserves one. Read at your own risk, for it is extremely romance-y and your heart might stop for some parts. Loved writing it, and enjoy!_**

**15** My hands lock over my mouth, but I quickly unclasp them and reach for my bag. I dig around in the darkness until I find them, the sunglasses. By the time I've gotten all my things ready it's midnight. And I, unprepared for anyone who may attack me, go looking for Peeta. I've made it to a river by morning, I'd heard the ongoing cheers of Cato and his ally as they celebrate on and on for they, two, are going to try to win side by side. As will Peeta and I, after I fix whatever wounds it is that he has now. Hopefully with the help of some sympathetic sponsors. Star-crossed lovers… Peet must've been playing at that angle. Why, our 'romance' must be so popular they were forced to change the rules, it also makes for some competition between Peeta and I and the others to win with their partner.

Peeta. So, we've both been playing at the star-crossed lovers thing. Peeta with shaking his head at the Cornucopia, hooking up with the Careers, and fighting Cato to protect and save me while I had the easier side of the job, acting sad and shocked and telling Rue that it was all true.

Rue. Just thinking of her brings back the pain of the unclosed wound.

I start walking along the river side, taking all of this information in, when I notice something. A strange smear of blood off in the distance. I follow it and find another long smear along a rock. I follow the trail until my foot steps on something soft, yet hard. An ant hill?

"Here to finish me off, sweetie?"

I jump back off of the ant hill and look down, there's nothing there. No ant hill, but also no Peeta. Just mud and plants and small rocks. But, there was that voice. It was hoarse and weak and had to be Peeta.

"Peeta?" I whisper, stepping back over the invisible ant hill.

"Well, don't strip on me." I jump back again and kneel down next to the direction of the voice. I then see it, Peeta's baby-blues open in the dirt. I stare in awe for a moment and then place my pinter finger and my middle finger lightly on his eyes and close them. He disappears. I pull my hand away and watch as his eyes flutter open again and the unmistakeable blue shines against the brown mud and dark green leaves. I then see his smile appear, the bright white of his teeth as he chortles at my bewilderment.

"Peeta this is… it's just… amazing." I say, astonishment so easily apparent in my voice that it's nearly tangible.

Peeta smiles, "Yes, frosting cakes, the final defense of the dying."

I glare at him, "You're _not _going to die." I snap.

"Oh yeah?" He says with a ragged mocking, "Who says?"

"I do!" I say, annoyed by his lack of belief that he'll live, "You're with me now, okay? And I'm not going to let you die."

''Yeah, I heard." His once closed eyes open again, "Nice of you to find what's left of me."

I take out my water bottle and tell Peeta to take some, he refuses for it's my last bit. I should've never mentioned that. I wait and beg for him to drink it and eventually he does.

"So where did Cato get you?" I ask.

''Leg. Lower thigh." Peeta answers.

"Maybe if we wash it off…" I say, trailing off as my eyes wonder towards the lake.

"Lean down for a minute first, okay?" He says, and I lean my good ear towards him. His lips tickle my ear as he speaks, "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

I pull my head away and start laughing like mad, at a time like this _that_ is what's on his mind? I look down at him, "I'll keep it in constant mind." I assure as the last of my laughs slip through my lips.

I start to dig around his outline, he's so covered with dirt and muck that just pulling on him would hurt him all the more. I slowly pull Peeta out of his outline and realize he cannot move one inch on his own. After he's out I try to drag him towards the river, but the terribly hidden sharp cries of pain that escape his lips kill me. I bite my lip and give him one more tug, trying to drown out the cries, but it paints too deep within me for me to go on any further.

I look down at Peeta, tears are cutting trails in the dirt on his face, his teeth are gritted, and he's lying just two feet from the water.

"Peeta?" I say, "I'm going to try rolling you, okay? Maybe it'll be easier to get you there…"

"Excellent." He says. I make a silent promise not to stop no matter what happens and no matter how many cries he lets out. One cry and half a roll later I've already broken the promise. Hearing him in that kind of pain is killing me, I almost wish I'd lost all of my hearing. He's on the edge of the stream, if I could just turn him slightly he'd be fine like that.

"Okay, Peeta, change of plans. I'm just going to turn you, not put you all the way in the river," I tell him.

"No more rolling?" His hoarse voice asks with relief.

"Yes, yes. Now, I'm going to clean you up and you're going to keep an eye on the woods for me, okay?" I say, he nods. Now, where to start? He's so caked with mud and muck and mud and matted leaves I can't even see his clothes… That is, if he's wearing any. I really hope he is.

I slip into the water and take my empty water bottle in hand, fill it up, and start to pour the water down Peeta's head. I run my fingers through it and relieve it of the dirt. I then refill the bottle and start on his face. The next several refills goes over his clothes- -which I'm relieved to find that he has. After all the mud and dirt are off his clothes, I carefully unzip his jacket, lay it to the side, and then unbutton his shirt and place that to the side as well.

When I reach his undershirt and it's so plastered from into his wounds I have to get out my knife. I carefully tear and cut the undershirt away from him and have to pour more water down his shirt until the undershirt comes loose. I can see he's badly bruised, has a long burn across his chest, and four tracker-jacker stings. Seeing the stings makes me feel guilty, but i can fix it.

I start on his upper body first, seeing as he's clear of clothing and dirt there. I turn to my backpack and dig through until I find the burn cream and the leaves Rue showed me. I turn back to Peeta and see that he's basically sitting in a mud puddle. I prop him against a boulder carefully, making sure not to hurt him further, and he sits there, very pale-skinned in the sunlight, while I apply the burn ointment to his chest as I chew the leaves. As soon as his chest is covered in the cream, I, very unwillingly, pick the stingers out of Peeta's tracker-jacker lumps. Every time he winces, it makes me wince out of regret. But I feel much better when I see the look of relief after I spread the chewed leaves over the lumps.

I turn back to my bag and put the cream away an dig out a dried fruits from my backpack, "You must be really hungry."

"Not really." he says, "It's funny, I haven't' been hungry for days." I offer him some dried beef or fruit to which he refuses. Now I know just how sick Peeta is.

"Peeta please eat." I beg.

"It'll just come right back up," says Peeta.

"_Please_?" I ask once more, and finally get him to nibble on a few bits of dried apple. He looks at me while I work on taking off his boots and socks.

"Thank you, Tulip, I'm much better… Can I sleep now?" he asks, still chewing on a small piece of apple.

"No, not yet Peeta." I say, "You can after we fix up your leg, okay?" He nods. I place his boots and socks to the side and then slowly inch his pants off him. I nearly gasp at the terrible cut on his leg for it is a deep inflamed gash oozing with blood and puss. This doesn't bother me for you see things much worse then this during the Games all the time, but seeing it in person is a lot more horrid.

"Pretty awful, huh?" says Peeta, who watches my reaction closely. I close my about-to-gasp mouth and shrug.

"Not that bad. The Games've had worse." I say, but I fear he sees through me. "We'll just have to clean it well."

I left on Peeta's undershorts for one, they're not very badly dirtied and two, pulling them over the swollen thigh would be agonizing for him and,I admit it, the idea made me very uncomfortable.

I try the leaves on his leg, but it has no effect but to make it ooze out puss. I decide to replace the leaves every so often while Peeta relaxes and gets some sun for his pale skin.

"After this we'll give it some air and then we could…" I can't think of what to do next.

"Then we could patch it up?" says Peeta. Oh, Peeta. Always saving my but when I'm in a loss for words.

"Yes! That's right." I say, then put a few dried pears in front of him, "now eat these." I take all of his clothes that I've laid aside and begin to wash them in the lake. I then change his leaves again and more puss begins to run down his leg, I bite my lip as to not show my disgust. I look up at Peeta when he calls my name.

"Tulip?" says Peeta, who then mouths the words, "How 'bout that kiss?"

I start laughing a little, amused by what goes through his head during the worst of times, but then stop abruptly. Maybe I should, for the star-crossed lovers thing. Would now be the right time? I'm sure the cameras caught what he mouthed, it is there job to catch these things after all.

"Something wrong?" He asks innocently, all too innocently. Still indecisive, I look down at Peeta's leg. _It's better than doing this_, I think.

I swash through the water towards where Peeta is proper against a boulder, I place my hands on either side of his face and kiss his nose- -just like after the opening ceremonies- -and feel the heat of the fever he's running.

I pull away slightly, keeping my face right near his, and say, "Now, shut up and eat your pears." I pull away and reach for my bag, if I remember correctly there is a medicine kit in it. It has badges, medicine to calm a stomach, and… Fever pills!

"Swallow these," I say, "they'll help your fever." He takes them without complaint and I spread the final of the chewed leaves on the cut caused by Cato and finally build up enough disgust to say, "Euck!"

"How do you hunt if this bothers you?" Peeta asks.

"This is a lot harder then killing something for food." I say, "Then again, I could be killing you."

"Can you speed it up a little then?" he asks. I glare at him.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up and eat your pears?" I say, he smiles and sticks one in his mouth. I turn my attention back to his leg. Besides the swellings decreasing, the wood doesn't look much better. I can see just how deep Cato cut Peeta. I can also see bone.

"What next Dr. Joneswood?'' Peeta asks.

"I'm going to wrap it up now, okay?" I slowly wrap his leg up in the badges from the medicine kit, but then I notice how dirty it makes his undershirts look. I hand him his jacket, say "here, cover yourself with this," and turn around.

"Oh, I don't care if you see me," says Peeta. I turn back around.

I raise an eyebrow at him, "What about the rest of Panem?" He shrugs, "Okay, well I do care."

I turn back around and look at the flow of the river until Peeta's shorts splash next to me, I say, "thank you," and start to wash them. I'm glad to see he can actually move now.

"You're kind of squeamish, you know, for such a lethal person." says Peeta, "Maybe you should've showered Haymitch after all."

"I'm lethal but lovable!" I joke, but then change the subject, "So, have you gotten anything yet?"

"Not a thing." says Peeta, who then realizes why I asked, "Why, did you?"

"Burn medicine." I say sheepishly with a hint of guilt, "A-and some bread…"

"I always new you are his favorite." he says.

"Am not." I protest.

"Sure your not." A smug Peeta says. I roll my eyes and decide, against my impulses, to not insult Haymitch.

"You can sleep now, Peeta." I say, and he dozes of while his clothes dry. By later afternoon I wake him slowly, rubbing my hand on his cheek- -to play up the star-crossed lovers deal- -and say, "Peeta? Peeta, you have to wake up now. We got to go."

Groggily and confusedly he responds, "Go? Where?"

"Somewhere." I say, "Away from here. So we can hide until you're better, okay?" I help him dress in his pants and shirt and pull him upright. I look at his face and see that he's drained of all color. "Come one, Peeta, I know you can do this."

He can't.

Not for that long, anyway. We make it around fifty yards downstream until I can tell he's going to black out. I sit him on the bank and make him push his head between his knees. I rub my hand along his back to comfort him as I look around, i'd love to get him up in a tree but that isn't going to happen until he can walk without being propped up against me. I see a small cave-like pile of rocks and decide that'll be our knew home.

After Peeta's able to stand I half-cary him, half-walk with him up to the cave. This place will be good, and found in just the knick of time for Peeta is paper-white, panting, and shivering like mad.

After I've covered the floor in pine needles, I tuck him into my sleeping bag snuggly and give him a couple more fever pills and the water that I'd put iodine in as we walked, or as I carried him. I try to get more food into him, but he refuses. For a while, I watch him as he sits there and watches me. I then think to move a smaller boulder in front of our cave entrance to secure us.

I move over to Peeta's side and brush his hair back and forth on his forehead. "You look a lot better," I say.

"Thanks for finding me, Tulip," he says.

"You would've done the same." I say. And, as I continue to brush his hair, I feel his forehead burning up. Like the medicine's had no effect. Maybe it's been to short a time and it'll start working soon. But if that's true…

Why do I fear he's going to die?

"Yeah. Look, Tulip, if I don't make it back- -" he begins.

"I didn't lug you all this way for nothing," I say.

"I know, I know, but just incase I don't- -" My fingers over his lips cut him off.

"No, don't even try." I say, but he continues anyway.

"But, I- -"

"Shh…'' I say, as I impulsively slip my fingers away from his lips. A moment later my lips crash against his, stopping his words. This is just the right thing to do. Being that we're 'madly in love' and all. It is, however, the first time I've kissed a boy. On the lips, that is, but I don't feel the full impact of it because my brain is only focusing on the unnatural heat that his fever is causing his lips to have. I pull my lips away slowly. I do feel some impact, though, so I guess this counts as a first kiss.

I tuck the bag up to his chin, "You're not going to die, got it? I refuse to let you."

"All right," he whispers. I hear something clink outside and burst up and out into the cool air, bow in hand and arrow at the ready, just to find a parachute. I pull my arrow away from the strings and place the bow over my shoulder. I open the latch on the parachute's box and hope for medicine, but what I find is soup. I understand, now, what Haymitch needs for sponsors and what Peeta needs to survive.

Romance. The star-crossed lovers desperate to get home together. Two hearts beating as one. _Love_. I need to act the part, otherwise Peeta will die, and I can't have that. No way in hell am I loosing Peeta, no way in hell is he going to die.

"Peeta!" I call, using the sweetest tone I can, the most 'in-love' tone I can. I enter the cave and find he's fallen asleep. I shake my head with a smile, which is not fake, and kneel by his side with the broth next to me. I kiss his forehead and he wakes up, slightly startled, but then smiles as if he'd be able to stare at me forever, and be happy about it. Even in this state he's a good actor.

"Peeta, look what Haymitch's sent you!" I say happily. Then kiss his cheek, he smiles.

This is surprisingly easy.


	16. Chapter 16

**16** "Peeta, please take another sip." I beg, he shakes his head stubbornly. I lean in and kiss him, then offer him the broth again. He takes a dainty sip and I have to give him another kiss so he'll eat more.

This has been going on forever. Getting Peeta to eat this soup has taken an exhausting hour of begging, kissing, coaxing, kissing, threatening, and more kissing. Peeta, after who knows how many kisses, has now finished is soup and is drifting of to sleep while I gorge on my the last of my rabbit, a bird I'd caught in a snare that Rue had called a 'groosling,' and then watch the daily report in the sky. There are no casualties and I'm pretty sure the Gamemakers will stretch out this star-crossed lovers deal for as long as they can because they've never had anything like this happen before.

I spend the night sitting next to Peeta in the cold, I realize now that I have to be the one who grits there teeth and doesn't start a fire, this brings me back to the beginning of the Games and how Peeta was with the Careers. I've neglected to ask him, still, why he did that. Hours later I wake up to a rosy colored sky, I look at Peeta and see his fever has broken, I sigh with relief. I leave the cave, sliding past the boulder in front of the cave, to look for the berries Rue showed me. I find one about two hundred yards from the cave and strip it bare. I then follow my secret markers- -slashes that I'd cut in the trees- -to find my way back. This way, I can check the bush all the time for new berries. I mash the berries up, ad cold water, and put them in Peeta's broth bowl.

I then enter the cave to give Peeta the food, when I find him struggling to stand. He's up against the wall and is trying to push himself to his feet. "What the hell are you doing?" I shout. What the hell does he think he's doing? He can't stand on that leg now, it'd kill him with pain! I kneel next to him, putting the bowl of berries next to me, and help Peeta back down into the sleeping bag.

"I woke up and you were gone," he says, "I was worried about you."

"Why would I leave you?" I ask.

"I thought Clove and Cato might've found you. They like to hunt at night," he says, still serious.

"Clove? Who's that?" I question.

"The girl from District 2, she's still alive right?" asks Peeta.

"Yeah, just Thresh, Foxface, and them." I say, "Foxface is what I call the girl from five… How are you feeling?"

"Better." he says, "This is an enormous improvement from the mud. Clean clothes, medicine, a sleeping bag… you."

I reach out my hand to stroke his cheek, going along with the romance-y thing, when he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I wonder where Peeta learned this, or if he just comes up with it. Because, truthfully, his mother is quite a witch.

"No more kisses 'til you eat." I say, propping him up against the wall as he pouts. I smirk at the sight and 'give in' to one kiss before he eats, "_now_ there will be no more kisses."

I speed him tiny spoonfuls of the mushy berries and get worried when he refuses the freshly cooked groosling. He says, "Now can I have a kiss?" I kiss his cheek.

He then says, "You didn't sleep."

"How else could I watch you?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"Tulip, you can't sleep forever," he says, "sleep now. I'll keep watch and wake you if anything happens."

"Alright, fine." I say, hating that I have to leave him basically fending for himself, "Only for a few hours, okay? Then, you wake me- -and not like how you woke me up during the training scores!"

He laughs, "Miss by one score, one time, and you've got a reputation." He says, I can't help but smirk as I lay the sleeping bag down. I keep my bow next to me and look at Peeta's sideways image as my eyes flutter.

"Go to sleep." He orders softly, brushing my strands of my hair to the side. And, for the first time, my happiness isn't a staged reaction. I don't want Peeta to stop playing with my hair. And I watch him as the world around me drifts to darkness as I slip into unconsciousness. Sitting next to me, leaning against the wall, his bad leg stretched out before him, his eyes watching through the open crack in the boulder door, him stroking my hair. And before I know it, I'm asleep.

I open my eyes and Peeta's still next to me, same position as before, and look around the sky is rosy again. But, I know I've been sleeping for hours if not more.

"Looks like your reputation is accurate." I say as I sit up and stretch. "Nothing's been going on here," he says, "Besides, I like watching you sleep. You never glare at me when I say something funny."

"It's not always that funny." I say, forcing myself to glare at him. He smiles and my glare breaks. I look at him and see his lips are dry, and press my lips against his forehead to test his fever. But I have to pull away swiftly because it's like kissing a hot coal.

"Peeta, did you drink _any _water while I've been asleep?" I ask.

"Yes, of course." He says, I pick up the water bottles and weigh them in my hands.

"Feel pretty full to me." I say with a raised eyebrow. I give him fever pills and make him drink two quarts of water. I then tend to his minor wounds, burns, and stings. They are doing much better, unlike his leg which I rewrap in bandages while my heart drops. It's worse, so much worse, it's swelling and the tight, shiny skin is inflamed. My heart stops for several seconds, red streaks are starting to crawl up his leg…

Blood poisoning.

It'll kill him if it goes unchecked and the only way to get it better is if Haymitch can get everyone single one of our sponsors to donate for it, but even then, would it be enough? The Games make all the prices shoot up, what a cracker costs on day twelve is what it costs for a four course meal on day one, and the kind of medicine Peeta needs would be over the roof!

My heart begins to beat again.

"Well… umm… there's swelling but, uh, the pus is gone…" I say in a shaky, upset voice. "Your leg is looking better, actually."

"I know what blood poisoning is, Tulip," says Peeta.

` "You'll get cured in the Capitol after we win." I say, shaky confidence in my voice.

"Yes, that's a good plan." he says, but I feel that it's just for my benefit.

"You… you have to eat, I'll make you soup… you need your strength."

"Don't light a fire," he says, "It's not worth it."

"Yeah, well, if it means you live I don't care!" I snap, upset by the fact that he might die and that is just unexceptable! I don't want him to, so I won't let him. One tear leaks down my cheek and Peeta wipes it away with his thumb.

I storm off to make the damn soup. It's so hot the I don't need a fire, so I just sat the pot on a rock and after purifying the water, I place several egg-sized hot stones in it. I mince groosling until its almost mush, ad some of Rue's roots, and wait. I constantly change the rocks for hotter ones on and off as I set up snares.

When I started throwing the rocks in, each one would plop in with anger and splash the water around, which would make me all the testier for I constantly had to refill it. Eventually, though, the rocks would glide in as I my temper cooled rather than being flopped in.

As the last bits of the homemade broth were heating with freshly changed rocks, I went to set up a few snares and traps so that I wouldn't have to hunt and be away from Peeta too long, I don't like the idea of being out hunting while he's sitting there, sick.

I take the broth in my hands and head back into the cave home, and Peeta looks up at me. He looks no better.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, looking at his leg. He kisses my cheek- -which makes me jump for a second- -and then he answers.

"Tired." He says as I make him relax back down into the sleeping bag. I then take the homemade broth and then bring it to Peeta.

"I hope you're hungry, too." I say, "then you can sleep, okay?"

He nods, and I help him take slow sips of the soup, he continuously tell she how great it is, and I continuously tell him he's a liar. I'm actually a great cook, or as good as I can be while in District 12, and I know this would definitely _not _be one of my best dishes.

As Peeta finishes the food, I tuck the sleeping bag up to his chin and sit-lay next to him. I watch him at first as he drifts in and out of sleep until he ask about a story for me to tell him.

"A story?" I ask, "About what?"

"Something… something that made you happy." He says, "Your happiest moment."

I have to think for a long moment. Knowing that I wouldn't have to go through the rest of the Games on my on was defiantly one. Knowing my stylist wasn't a kook was another. The day Peeta saved me was undoubtably one of the best.

I wonder if the audience would like that one? And it's perfectly appropriate for Capitol ears, no illegal entities in it.

"Did I ever tell you of the time I was saved by the baker's son?" I say, his head jerks up to look at me.

"I've heard it around." He says, hidden meaning of question in his voice.

"But, you've never heard it told by _me_." I answer. "Would you like to?"

He nods, anticipation in his every move and every word.

"Well, I was around nine. My father'd just died in a mining accident, and my mother got sick. We were getting really hungry, close to starving." I say, under exaggerating. "We went looking for food somewhere, in a garbage, on the ground, anything. Then, as we passed the bakery, there was this boy…"

Peeta's face lit up a little, with question and intrigue, as I continued my story.

"This boy, he was around my age, in my class too. His father was a baker, and he was supposed to take these burn- -" I thought about the consequences that this could cause Peeta, should we make it home, by his mother. "- -these pieces of bread out and he, instead, gave them to me, my brother, and sister. I'm grateful to him, because he saved my life."

"And you're saving his." Peeta says, we smile, and I know that the audience has made the connection. Peeta's the bread boy.

"Trying to, anyway." I say, and then I'm answered.

With trumpets.

They sound and make me jump in place. I scramble out of the cave and make it just it time to hear, to my great pleasure, Claudius Templesmith inviting us to a feast. I'm not all that hungry, I can find plenty of food, and Peeta is fine as long as he's with me. I wave my hand dismissively and turn to leave for the cave when his direct addressing makes me whip around.

"Now hold on," his voice booms around, "Some of you may have already declined my invitation, but this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something… _desperately."_

Go on, Claudius.

"Each of you will find that very something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up, for, if you do, this could very well be your last chance." Claudius's last echoes around the arena until they fade.

Peeta's leg. I can fix Peeta's leg! I rush back into the cave happily and see Peeta's worried face and that he's struggling- -once again- -to get up.

"No." He says immediately, making me frown, "You're not going. You're not rising your life for me."

I get an idea. An evil plan, of sorts.

"Who told you that I was going?" I ask, jokingly pretending to look around for someone.

"So… you're not going to go?" he asks as I walk closer to him and ease him back into bed.

"No way, Peeta. I'm not going. You think I'm that stupid?" I say, when in reality I'm talking about letting Peeta know, "We'll wait until it's over and then I'll go, when there is no risk and when you think it's safe."

The last part caught me. Plan failed.

"You're a really bad liar, Tulip." _Oh, really, Peeta? _I think, _then how've I been fooling all of Panem into thinking I'm in love with you?_ He then mimics me, "_Your leg is looking better. No way, Peeta. I'm not going." _He shakes his head, "Never play cards, you pokerface'll be as obvious as showing each person your cards individually."

"I'm going." I say, with dark seriousness. This is harshest thing I've ever said to Peeta. "And you're not stopping me, so just deal with it."

"I can follow you." he says.

"Not on that leg, you can't," I scoff.

"I can at least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I'm yelling your name, I bet someone'll find me. An then I'll be dead for sure," he threatens, "I'll drag myself if I have to. Your not going unless I am too."

He's stubborn and strong, and he will do it. I can't let him do it, he'd either get killed by someone, something, or just the effort. I can't let him die like that, defenseless and out of spite. No way. I said I won't let him die, and he won't.

"What the hell else do you expect me to do, huh?" I snap, "I refuse to stay here and let you die! I won't have it!"

"If you promise you won't go, I'll promise not to die." he says.

"How can you promise that?" I say, slumping down to the floor and crossing my legs.

"Because I'm promising it to you." He says, and I can hear the audience aww and sigh with relief for their favorite couple's first fight is over.

For now. It's just a bit of a stalemate, either way there will be no agreement reached. I'll just pretend, hopefully well, that I don't want to go.

"Fine." I say, "But you do exactly what I say, drink your water, eat, wake me when I say, with no kissing bribes."

"Aww, but I like those." He jokes, in a better mood for he 'won' our argument, "Fine, agreed."

I give him another dose of fever medicine. His forehead is burning, so much so that I could've cooked the soup on his forehead. I know one thing for sure, that no matter what Peeta says, or what I say to Peeta, I'm going to go to the Cornucopia. One way or another. That's when I heard it.

_Tink, tink, tink, tink.._


End file.
